Chaste Widow (Vanderbrook Champions Book 4)

by Edmund Hughes

  More gunshots sounded from Second Wind’s direction as Malcolm fell to the ground, wrestling his opponent. Multi had not been a big man, nor overly athletic, but he had clearly made gains as a demon and passed them onto his copies. Malcolm punched his opponent several times in the face, each blow doing little more than annoying him.

  The Multi somehow managed to pull his legs into his chest and kick. Malcolm flew up into the air, traveling fifteen feet before landing in a wind cushioned heap. He caught a glimpse of Second Wind finishing off his group of Multis with a pistol in each hand.

  Second Wind had several open bullet wounds, enough of them that Malcolm couldn’t count them at a glance. His heart skipped a beat until he remembered that his copy shared his power mimicry, and would likely have Tapestry’s regeneration on reserve. Most definitely, given that he was still standing, and still fighting.

  The Multi who’d been driving the truck pressed forward on the attack. Malcolm was thinking clearly this time. He let Multi get a hold of him before he began to overheat his skin, charring the demon wherever their bodies came into contact. The Multi screamed in pain. Malcolm punched him hard in the face, and this time he went down, stunned, but not unconscious.

  Malcolm looked in Second Wind’s direction. All of the Multis there were dead. In total, Second Wind had done most of the killing, or at least delivered most of the fatal blows. The road was charred from where the grenade had gone off, with blood and various unidentifiable gory bits scattered in a circle around the center of the blast.

  “Are you okay?” asked Malcolm. Second Wind looked up at him and gave a quick nod.

  “Regeneration,” Second Wind said, gesturing to the bullet holes.

  I didn’t just mean physically…

  “Was it… necessary, for you to kill all of them?” asked Malcolm.

  It was not the right question to ask. He could tell as soon as he saw Second Wind’s expression shift. He struggled with the regret and the shame exactly how Malcolm would have, and it would add another level to whatever emotional baggage he was already wrestling with.

  “Sorry,” said Malcolm. “I didn’t mean it as an accusation. We still have one left alive to question.”

  Malcolm moved to grab the Multi on the ground. He met the man’s eyes for an instant, and then watched in horror as he casually reached underneath his shirt and pulled out a pistol.

  Malcolm was ready to deflect the bullet, but the Multi didn’t aim the gun at him. Instead, he set the barrel of it to his chin, tilted the gun slightly, and pulled the trigger. It happened so fast that there was nothing Malcolm or Second Wind could have done about it.

  “Jesus Christ,” muttered Malcolm. “That… was a little extreme.”

  He looked over at Second Wind, expecting him to concur. Hot rage shone in Second Wind’s eyes.

  “Extreme,” said Second Wind, voice dripping with contempt. “Did you forget that he’s a copy? They’re all… just copies. It would be extreme if this Multi, or the ones who were next to the grenade, if they actually had anything waiting for them. Anyone who’d miss them.”

  “Just copies?” asked Malcolm. He shook his head, feeling as though he was understanding Second Wind less and less. “How can you, of all people, say that?”

  Again, it wasn’t until the words had left Malcolm’s mouth that he realized just how wrong they were for the situation.

  “I am just a copy!” shouted Second Wind. “Are you seriously going to try and say you have a better perspective on this than I do?”

  “Hey,” said Malcolm. “Relax. Come on. You know I didn’t mean it like that. And you aren’t just a copy. Look, for now, we have roles to play. But once things settle down in Vanderbrook…”

  Second Wind’s expression hadn’t softened. If anything, he looked even angrier.

  “No please, go ahead,” he said. “Finish that thought. Once things settle down in Vanderbrook… then what? You’ll send me off to do whatever I want? Take back your life for yourself? It’s pretty obvious that we both can’t settle down and grow old as next-door neighbors.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say,” said Malcolm. “And that’s not fair of you to say. You’re the one living in ‘our’ apartment. You kept most of what made up my life. You know you did.”

  “You gave me the boring parts of your life,” said Second Wind, sourly. “And you ran off with Rose to do exactly what we used to dream of doing.”

  Rose. Is that what this is about? I should be able to figure out what he’s thinking, shouldn’t I?

  “Hey,” said Malcolm. “I never intended this. I didn’t think I’d survive the encounter with Rain Dancer. You know that as well as I do.”

  “So that makes it all better, then?”

  “You know what, fuck you,” said Malcolm. “Go ahead and throw your temper tantrum. Be mad at me for something that we both did. You have the same memories I do, up until I used Multi’s power. You remember what went into that decision.”

  Second Wind was silent, but clearly not chastened. He stared at Malcolm with an intense look on his face. It was the same face Malcolm saw in the mirror, but at the same time, it wasn’t. How much had they changed in the past few weeks?

  Malcolm had more to say, and he was sure that his copy did as well. Unfortunately, he could already hear the approaching sirens.

  “We can talk about this more later,” said Malcolm. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  Second Wind gave a bitter smile.

  “We really aren’t the same person anymore,” he said. “See, in case you forgot, Wind Runner is a champion. Wind Runner doesn’t run away from the police in a situation like this. He waits for them to arrive, tells them what happened. Takes responsibility for his own actions.”

  “And also takes selfies with people,” said Malcolm. “Flirts with his female fans. Smiles, cracks bad jokes. Keeps things light. Remember all of that?”

  Second Wind didn’t say anything. The smile never left his face, and his eyes burned with the worst kinds of emotions, jealousy, hatred, and misery.

  Malcolm let out a long sigh, and then leapt into flight.

  CHAPTER 16

  Malcolm had intended to check out the other tip Shield Maiden had given him, the one about the electronics store. It made sense for him to watch both in the same day, in case foiling one of Multi’s plans clued him into the risk of him foiling the other.

  But the situation with Second Wind was something that concerned Malcolm even more. The last thing he’d expected when he’d decided to create a new identity for himself was for Second Wind to grow volatile and unstable in his old one.

  He knew he had to get some answers and knew where to go. Malcolm flew across Vanderbrook, staying high in the air and out of sight until he reached the park across from his old apartment. He touched down, pulled his mask off, and then casually walked across the street.

  He went up the stairs and down the hallway, pausing outside his doorway. The lock had never been a very good one, and Malcolm had forgotten his keys enough times to have developed a strategy for getting the door open.

  Pulling a bankcard from his wallet, he pushed the door as far as it would go while sliding the card through the crack. Once the tension subsided, he slowly pushed the door open, wondering what he would find.

  Second Wind had taken up a new hobby. Dozens of books were scattered across Malcolm’s couch and floor, most of them with titles related to philosophy or self-help. It fit with what Malcolm had sensed in his copy during their conversations that day, but it still made him uneasy.

  At a glance, Malcolm’s bedroom was about the same as it had been when he’d lived in it. As he approached the bed, however, he found another surprise waiting for him. The gun that Tapestry had given Malcolm when he’d first become a champion was sitting on the bed stand. It was loaded, and the safety was off.

  Is he paranoid? Suicidal? What the hell is going on inside his head?

  Malcolm was still pondering the question and sea
rching for clues when the door to the apartment swung wide open. He froze, silently cursing himself and knowing that being caught would only drive a deep wedge between him and Second Wind.

  “There you are,” said Tapestry. “Why have you been ignoring me all morning?”

  Malcolm slowly turned to look at her. She wore a black sweater and tight jeans, and instead of her usual ponytail, she had on an elastic hairband that let her blonde locks fall loose behind her ears. She smiled at him as she walked toward him. Malcolm was at a loss for words.

  “Uh…” He smiled back at her. The last time he’d seen her, she’d shot him in the shoulder. And the time before that…

  The time before that was right before I used Multi’s power to create Second Wind. I’ve missed her… I’ve missed her so much…

  “You look like you just saw a ghost,” said Tapestry. She stepped in closer to him, cupped Malcolm’s cheek in her hand, and then kissed him.

  Malcolm was so stunned that he almost forgot to kiss her back. He’d been getting close to Tapestry before Second Wind had entered the picture. Perhaps he’d even been on the verge of something more with her, something closer to a real relationship instead of volatility with sex occasionally thrown in.

  It made perfect sense that Second Wind would have picked up where he’d left off. Second Wind was him, in all the ways that mattered to the world. Tapestry was oblivious to the fact that he’d made a copy of himself. On top of that, he’d been with Rose for the past few weeks, and while they weren’t quite in a relationship, they’d been seeing each other regularly.

  Malcolm considered all of this, and still felt a weird, confusing sense of jealousy. Had she and Second Wind done more with each other than just kiss? Of course they had. He reminded himself that it was ridiculous for it to bother him, but his emotions seemed to have plans of their own.

  She pulled back, and Malcolm just stared at her. Was he imagining it, or was there also a change in Tapestry’s demeanor? She seemed more relaxed, and there was a lightness about her expression and smile that reminded him a little of her great granddaughter, Melanie.

  “Are you okay?” asked Tapestry. “Did something happen?”

  “No!” Malcolm said, quickly. “I’m fine. Just… a little tired.”

  “I’m sorry about what I said last night,” said Tapestry.

  “What you… said last night?” Malcolm repeated slowly. Tapestry gave him a weird look.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I may have been overreacting a little. But I still stand by my point, Malcolm.”

  Which was…?

  “Uh.” Malcolm shrugged. He was having the absurd realization that it was actually quite difficult to pretend to be himself. “I mean, we both made good points. Didn’t we?”

  What he knew he should be doing was taking the conversation elsewhere, or even ending it entirely. But Second Wind’s behavior had stirred his curiosity. Malcolm was living under a new identity now, but it didn’t stop him from feeling like he was being affected by the choices and decisions of his old one.

  “Vanderbrook needs you, Malcolm,” said Tapestry. Her voice was quiet and serious. “It needs Wind Runner. You’re so much more appreciated than you know.”

  She gave him a starry eyed look. Malcolm couldn’t help but wonder just what Second Wind had said, or done, to endear her to him like this. And then, Tapestry was kissing him again. He let his hands slide up the sides of her body, feeling her breasts pushing against his chest. He’d missed her. God, he’d missed her.

  It took an immense force of will for Malcolm to pull back from her. Yes, he had missed Tapestry, but he reminded himself that she had not missed him. Second Wind had been there for her, would continue to be there for her, and would be back at literally any minute.

  “Sorry,” he said. “My mind is still, uh, focused on work right now.”

  “Of course,” said Tapestry. “That’s fine.”

  The flush in her cheeks contradicted her.

  “So…” said Malcolm. “Have you heard anything new about Multi since we last spoke?”

  If the question was a weird one, Tapestry didn’t let it show. Second Wind’s recent behavior had left Malcolm wondering if he was getting all of the information he needed from his copy. Clearly, there were things being kept from him, and some of them might be less innocuous than the current state of Second Wind’s love life.

  “My contacts have been coming up dry,” said Tapestry. “We still don’t know where he’s getting his weapons from. Or more importantly, his explosives.”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say he’s probably making them himself,” said Malcolm. “That’s the kind of guy Multi was. Maybe we could check out some local electronics stores?”

  Tapestry nodded.

  “I’m also going to investigate Terri’s Tavern tonight, the monster bar,” she said.

  Malcolm furrowed his brow.

  “Uh, seriously?” he asked. “Do you think that they would react well to that?”

  “They let you and Savior in,” said Tapestry. “Without too much fuss, from what I hear. And unless things have changed since the last time I went to a bar, pretty girls have an easier time getting by bouncers than two bachelors.”

  “Fair enough,” said Malcolm. “But seriously, when was the last time you went to a bar? 1945? 1950?”

  Tapestry looked at him like she couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Malcolm grinned at her, accepting her playful punch on the shoulder. A smile crept back onto her face, and she sighed.

  “I’m glad to see your sense of humor is coming back,” she said. “Though I don’t think it would behoove me to dignify your question with a serious answer.”

  “Of course not,” said Malcolm.

  “Anyway, beyond Multi, I’ve also heard rumors of a gifted woman who has been picking up men from bars and leaving them dead in their bedrooms,” said Tapestry. “So I’ll have a chance at killing two birds with one stone. Three, if I find out anything about the Gifted Vigilante.”

  Malcolm kept his internal reaction from showing on his face. He slowly nodded.

  “I guess,” he said. “Though I don’t think that guy should be our top priority. He doesn’t seem all that evil, really.”

  “It’s not about good and evil,” said Tapestry, stiffly. “He’s not playing by the rules.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to hunt him down and kill him,” said Malcolm. “We have Multi to deal with right now, as our top priority.”

  “But this guy is powerful,” said Tapestry. “You’ve seen what he can do. He’s a renegade. I already gave him a chance to surrender. Now, it’s time to take him down.”

  “Okay, Rambo,” said Malcolm. “Good luck with that.”

  “You’d better hope so,” said Tapestry. “You’ll be my backup.”

  Malcolm chuckled. He was about to say something when he realized that it was already late-afternoon. He took out his phone and checked the time.

  3:50. Ten minutes before Rose’s meeting with Brenden. I’d just barely make it in time if I left now.

  Despite what he’d said to her the previous night, Malcolm suddenly felt anxious about letting her go to the meeting alone. It wasn’t jealousy. Or rather, it wasn’t entirely jealousy.

  He was worried for Rose, for what might happen to her when she started to remember, but also for her physical safety. She didn’t have the memories to confirm that Brenden was who he said it was. It could very well be a trap.

  “I forgot something,” said Malcolm. “An appointment I have to make.”

  Tapestry frowned at him.

  “What is it?”

  “I’ll explain later,” he said. For once, it felt a little nice knowing that it would be Second Wind fumbling for an excuse, and not him. Tapestry looked a little annoyed, but she didn’t object, leaving the apartment alongside him and saying her goodbye.

  CHAPTER 17

  Malcolm reached the motel in time to see Rose walking up the stairs toward Brenden’s room. She didn
’t usually travel during the day, and it was clear from her miss matched outfit that fashion sense had been at war with practicality.

  She wore a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over her head, her face barely peaking from the shadows. Underneath she wore a short grey skirt over black leggings. Her hands were clenched within the sleeves of the sweatshirt, and her shoulders were tensed.

  He hesitated, part of him wanting to call out to her. Another part of him realized that he didn’t have a place in their reunion, unless his goal was to make it weird. So instead, Malcolm took up a spot on the roof of one of the buildings across the street. Brenden had left the curtains open, and he could see him sitting on the bed, waiting for Rose to knock.

  Great. So instead of being a third wheel, I’ve decided to go full on stalker.

  He reminded himself that he was just looking out for Rose, that she had invited him along, and focused on what he needed to do next. Wind manipulation provided Malcolm a couple of less obvious abilities. By stilling his mind and focusing on small vibrations in the ear, he could use the wind to listen at a distance.

  He didn’t hear anything at first, and wasn’t sure if he was doing it correctly until he heard the sound of Rose knocking. Brenden stood up from the bed as though someone had stuck him with a cattle prod. Malcolm heard him mutter something to himself, and watched him walk slowly toward the door. He hesitated, and then opened it.

  Malcolm realized that he’d been holding his breath. He trusted Rose, but nagging insecurities in both his head and heart had prepared him for the worst. Part of him had secretly been bracing for a romantic reunion between the two, Brenden sweeping Rose off her feet and into bed and leaving Malcolm to ponder his own inadequacies.

  The reality of the situation was much more tense and awkward. There was no sign of recognition on Rose’s face. She looked as though she didn’t know what to say, like a woman on a blind date, seeing their partner for the first time. Brenden’s back was turned to Malcolm, but he was slowly shaking his head, as though in disbelief.