“Brenden?” Rose asked, hesitantly.
“Rose…” said Brenden.
Another couple of seconds went by before Brenden stepped back and gestured for her to come in. He tried to help her out of her sweatshirt. Rose let him, with a reluctant, uncomfortable expression on her face.
“Uh…” said Rose. “I got your message. About finding you here.”
“Good, good,” said Brenden. “I mean, obviously you did. For you to be here.”
His voice shook a little as he spoke, but not from nervousness. Brenden looked and sounded like a tightly wound ball of tension and emotion. Rose sat down on the bed. Brenden seemed to hesitate before choosing a chair situated opposite the bed.
Neither of them said anything for what felt like an eternity. Rose kept looking at Brenden, examining his face and features, like someone trying to place where they knew someone from. Brenden stared down at his legs. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, and it contributed to the awkwardness of the moment.
“Brenden,” said Rose, finally. “I don’t remember anything. I feel like… you need to know that, before anything else.”
“Oh,” said Brenden. “Well. I didn’t expect you to.”
“So…” said Rose.
“So…” replied Brenden.
Malcolm cringed a little, almost wishing for Brenden to find his confidence and charm her, just to make the scene easier to watch.
It’s not a trap, that much is clear. He’s not smooth enough for it to be a trap.
“Can you tell me?” asked Rose. “About myself? About us? You were my fiancé… weren’t you? I remember so little that I can’t even confirm it to myself.”
“Yeah, we were engaged.” Brenden exhaled, the sound slow, almost painful. “Wow. It’s a lot… to tell you about it all.”
“Relax,” said Rose. “I’ll be patient. Why don’t you start with how we met?”
Brenden cleared his throat.
“College,” he mumbled. “We were friends. We didn’t date right away.”
Silence. Far too much silence.
“Are you scared of me, Brenden?” asked Rose, flatly. “Because I’m a spryte?”
Brenden acted like he didn’t hear her.
“Our first date,” he said. “Why don’t I tell you about that? Maybe it will help you remember…”
He turned and looked at Rose. She nodded slowly.
“I wanted to take you to dinner and a movie. You said you hated movie theaters, that the floors were sticky, and the food was too expensive so you always had to sneak your own candy in.” Brenden let out a nervous laugh. “So I said… I suggested… That we go to a drive-in, instead. And you said yes.”
Rose listened. Her face was still, but there was a gleam of emotional longing in her eyes.
“I picked you up. You were wearing this amazing black dress. I thought it was wasted on a drive-in, where nobody was gonna see you, but you said it would just be for my eyes only, then.”
Brenden grinned at Rose. She smiled back at him. She didn’t say anything, but Brenden seemed to relax a little as he continued.
“My car broke down on the way. It had some engine problems that I’d been ignoring. It was pretty embarrassing. We were only just down the road from the drive-in, too. So I said, and this made you laugh, that we should just go and watch the movie anyway, even if we didn’t have the speaker and the sound.”
Rose’s smile grew wider. Her eyes were locked onto his. Malcolm felt a stab of jealousy, but it was outweighed by another, more complicated emotion. He wanted Rose to hear all of this. He cared enough about her to want her to know who she’d been, and what her life had been like.
“So we sat on this hill overlooking the screen, way, way back. You’d brought candy with you, hidden in your handbag. You said something about how old habits die hard, even if you didn’t have to sneak the stuff in. The movie started, and it was boring without sound, so I… did the voices.”
“You did the voices?” asked Rose, lifting an eyebrow.
“I pretended like I knew what they were saying,” he said. “Made up a plot through the dialogue. The movie was like, two hours long, and I kept doing it the whole time. By the end, you were laughing so hard, it was ridiculous.”
Brenden glanced away from her, and then looked back. He hesitantly reached his hand out and set it to her cheek.
“I… think I fell in love with you that night,” he said. “Or at least, I fell in love with the fact that I could make you laugh like that.”
“Brenden…” Rose’s face was uncertain. However, she made no move to stop Brenden as he leaned in and kissed her.
God damn it. I shouldn’t be here.
She pushed him back slightly after a second, not far enough to be out of range for another kiss, but enough to express her hesitation.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “There’s something I need to tell you. There’s someone else that I love.”
Brenden didn’t react at all to her statement. It was as though she hadn’t said anything. He sighed, and gave her cheek another caress.
“This would be so much easier if you remembered,” he said. “If you remembered everything.”
He let his arm slide to the bed, and then reached behind his back. Malcolm stared uncomprehendingly at the object Brenden held when he brought it back into view. It was a gun, and it took Malcolm far too long to realize it and react to the fact that Brenden was pointing it at Rose.
Rose’s mouth formed a tiny, confused circle. Brenden pulled the trigger before she could say anything, shooting her in the upper leg. The sound of the bullet shocked Malcolm’s sensitive, wind enhanced ears, but the pain of that was nothing compared to the pain of listening to Rose’s scream.
CHAPTER 18
Malcolm went in through the window. It wasn’t a calculated move to catch Brenden off guard. It was a line drive, the shortest path between points A and B. It was a desperate, visceral response, and he smashed through the glass without taking the time to consider breaking it beforehand.
He tackled Brenden and slammed him into the wall of the motel, leaving a vaguely person shaped dent. Brenden tried to push him back, but Malcolm was stronger and faster. He slammed his fist into the other man’s jaw once, twice, and pulled back for a third blow.
“Malcolm!” Rose’s voice was strained with pain and emotion. Malcolm turned to look at her. She was holding her upper thigh, trying to staunch the flow of blood.
The expression on her face hurt Malcolm more to see than her injury. There was so much betrayal and loss in her eyes. She was slowly shaking her head, and took a deep breath before speaking again.
“Please,” she said, voice a whisper. “Just get me out of here. Don’t… make this any worse.”
Malcom caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye and turned back to see Brenden taking aim, this time at him.
“Don’t!” cried Rose. She let out a single, pained sob. Malcolm hurried to his side, keeping his eyes on Brenden even as he leaned over to cradle Rose on the bed.
“I can’t just leave him,” said Malcolm.
“Please, Malcolm.” She squeezed his hand, pleading with her words and her eyes. “Please. Just get me out of here.”
Brenden looked momentarily stunned. Malcolm felt a cold rage for the man, but couldn’t ignore Rose’s request. He scooped her up into her arms, surprised by how light she felt, and carried her out the door. Brenden didn’t pursue them.
Once outside, Malcolm lifted off into the air. Using his wind manipulation to carry someone besides himself was dangerous, especially given that Rose was injured and it took more energy to hold them both steady. But he did it for her sake, knowing that a man carrying a spryte through the street, during daylight hours, would raise far too many questions.
“Keep pressure on your wound,” Malcolm said. He could feel a hot wetness on his chest. He glanced down expecting to see Rose’s blood on him, only to discover that it was mostly tears.
He used the wind t
o carry them over Vanderbrook as gently as he could while still going as fast as he could. A couple of people glanced up at them. Malcolm wasn’t high enough to be out of sight, but he’d already expended his budget for worrying on Rose’s condition.
The sun was slipping behind a cloud when he set down next to his hideout. Rose’s eyes were closed. He didn’t know if she was unconscious, or just unable to keep them open.
“I’m going to lower you down using the wind,” he said, as he opened the hatch. “I’ll follow right behind you, and I’ll… help get your wound cleaned up.”
If it’s serious, what can I do? She’s a spryte. I can’t just take her to a hospital.
“I’ll be fine,” mumbled Rose. Her tone of voice was anything but reassuring.
Malcolm carefully lowered her into the hideout on a cushion of wind. He didn’t bother to lock the hatch after him, quickly carrying her to his bed and setting a towel down underneath her. He had no more than the same crude first aid supplies he’d used on his own shoulder wound the night before, but he cut away the fabric of her leggings to get a look at her injury and went to work.
“The bullet is still inside you Rose,” muttered Malcolm. He swore under his breath. “This isn’t good. I’m… not sure what I can do, other than try to stop the bleeding.”
“Why?” she asked. The question wasn’t meant for him, but Malcolm tried to answer, anyway.
“He seemed unstable when I first met him,” said Malcolm. “I was a little worried that something like this might happen. That’s why I was watching out for you.”
Rose didn’t press him on that point, not even to make a joke about him stalking her. That worried Malcolm as much as the pain in her voice, and the look on her face.
“I’ll find a doctor,” said Malcolm. “Maybe… there is someone I can bribe to do it secretly, or something. I have money. I can make it happen.”
“Shield Maiden knows someone,” said Rose. “Call her.”
Malcolm frowned.
“Shield Maiden,” he repeated. “Alright. I can do that. Do you have the number?”
“It’s the one I gave you,” muttered Rose. “We… share… the line.”
She sounded tired, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the bullet hole in her leg or if it was an emotional fatigue. He hoped for the first, a physical wound would heal pretty quickly, but a wound of the latter variety would likely get worse before it started to get better.
“I’m sorry, Rose,” said Malcolm. “I… should have…”
I should have what? What could I have possibly done to stop this?
“I felt what he was talking about,” whispered Rose. “He kissed me, and… I didn’t remember anything. But I felt the emotions come back. I did love him, Malcolm.”
Malcolm nodded slowly.
“And then,” continued Rose. “He… I don’t understand. Why did he try to kill me?”
It was as she said. Rose might not have had memories of Brenden, but pain and betrayal in her voice was just as raw. Malcolm took bandages and disinfectant out of his medical kit and went about cleaning her wound, listening to her ragged breathing. He put a temporary bandage on it when he was done, and then took out his phone.
“I’ll call Shield Maiden,” he said. “Just try to stay calm. Your emotions will make it harder for you to deal with injury if you don’t.”
“Okay,” said Rose. “Thank you… Malcolm. You saved me.”
She smiled at him, and Malcolm remembered the other thing. What she’d said to Brenden just before he’d shot her. The thing about having someone else in her life that she loved.
He put on his mask before dialing the number. Rose made a small noise. Malcolm hurried over to her, only realizing that she’d been chuckling until the movement made her groan with pain.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“You put your mask on before talking to people on the phone?” she asked. “Do you think Shield Maiden will somehow hack your phone’s camera to get a look at you?”
Malcolm smiled back at her.
“I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to mock me,” he said.
“It would take more than one gunshot to stop me from doing that,” said Rose. Despite her words, Malcolm could still hear the pain in her tone, and see the sadness in her expression. He dialed the number for the phone in the spryte’s base.
Shield Maiden answered, and Malcolm had one of the strangest conversations of his life. He threw his voice to make it sound gruffer, and worked to keep his worry and concern out of his tone. Shield Maiden asked probing questions about where Rose was when she’d been shot, and what they’d been doing, but let it drop when she realized the danger her friend was in.
Malcolm waited impatiently by Rose’s side for nearly an hour, watching her slowly bleed through the towel he’d set underneath her on his bed. He didn’t care. A mattress was something he could replace.
He was about to head up to the warehouse to wait for Shield Maiden’s arrival when a sharp knock came at the hatch. Malcolm hurried over to it, pulling his mask back on and trying to keep paranoia in check.
It’s Shield Maiden. It has to be. Too much of a coincidence for it to be anyone else.
And it was. She climbed the ladder down into Malcolm’s hideout in a black gown, her hair woven into an intricate braid. She even had a little bit of make up on, and Malcolm realized that he’d interrupted her from something that night.
What surprised him was that she wasn’t alone. The blonde illusion spryte, Fantasy, followed after her, clad in sweatpants and a loose night shirt. She was very attractive, with curves in all the right places and dazzling eyes, though Malcolm barely noticed with Rose in such danger.
“She’s here,” he said gruffly. “The bullet is still inside her.”
Shield Maiden nodded. Fantasy made a show of folding her arms over her breasts and glancing around his hideout.
“This is very quaint,” said Fantasy. “You live a dangerous life, Mr. Vigilante.”
“Fantasy…” groaned Rose. “Please don’t flirt with my… friend.”
Malcolm knew that Rose must have lost a lot of blood, because her words verged on giving his identity away. He’d interacted with both her fellow sprytes before, and they knew that Rose had, at one time, been involved with Wind Runner.
“I wasn’t flirting with him,” protested Fantasy. “I was just suggesting that perhaps under different circumstances, I’d love to have a chat with him on how all this came to be.” She gave Rose an innocent look, but it melted after a second. “Okay, maybe I was flirting with him.”
“Well, enough,” said Rose. “I need a doctor. And to get back to the base.”
“I’m going to take you there in a bubble,” said Shield Maiden. “It’s the most comfortable means we have available. I’ve already gotten in touch with Rion. She’s a nurse, and will be able to help.”
Rose gave a tired nod. She let out a long sigh. Malcolm met her eyes and knew that her thoughts were still on what had happened. Brenden was a loose end, and an emotionally volatile one, at that. She gestured for Malcolm to come closer to her, and he did, leaning in close enough to hear her whisper.
“My, my,” said Fantasy. “Aren’t the two of you close?”
Rose glared at her, but it was sisterly, rather than angry.
“Don’t do anything stupid until the next time you see me,” she whispered.
“It might not be for a couple of days,” said Malcolm, eyeing her wound. “And it’s not like I know how to find you when you’re in your base.”
He’d been down to “Underworld”, as Rain Dancer had called it back when he’d been in power, once before. It was a series of underground chambers hidden deep within Halter City’s labyrinthian sewer system. Malcolm wasn’t looking forward to trudging through those tunnels in search of it after his last experience down a manhole.
“Call me,” said Rose. She gave a forced smile that was clearly for his benefit and turned her attention to Shie
ld Maiden. “I’m ready.”
Shield Maiden walked over slowly, looking quite beautiful in her fancy black gown. She extended a hand, and an instant later, a multicolored bubble encircled Rose where she lay on the bed. It lifted into the air, shifting shape slightly until it matched the profile of a hospital stretcher.
“Thank you for calling us,” said Shield Maiden.
“You should do it more often,” added Fantasy, in a musical voice. “I’m always down for a good chat.”
“Fantasy!” snapped Rose’s muted voice from within the bubble.
CHAPTER 19
The sprytes left. Malcolm locked the hatch behind them and sighed as he stood in the center of his apartment. He’d been scared, though he hadn’t admitted it to himself, of the danger that Rose had been in. Feeling it melt off his shoulders was a relief, but it left room for him to think about the implications of what she’d been through that night.
Brenden. Why the hell did he shoot her?
Malcolm wanted to kill him. Rose had been smart to make him promise that he wouldn’t do anything stupid. His urge for vengeance was deep and primal, driven by protectiveness and a need for revenge.
He forced himself to set his anger aside and turned on the TV. The local news channel was in the middle of doing a story on a series of unexplained local killings. One of the anchors suggested that the victims matched each other enough to suggest a serial killer with a certain kind of appetite.
They were all men, killed with no sign of a struggle and no external wounds. They’d all had alcohol in their system, and people interviewed in the aftermath all claimed that they’d been seen at a bar, and in some cases, been seen leaving with an attractive woman. And most of them had criminal records.
It sounded more like misguided vigilantism to Malcolm, rather than a serial killer, and he tried not to feel a personal sense of responsibility over what his own actions might have inspired. One of the anchors suddenly put a finger up to their ear, and interrupted her cohost.
Chaste Widow (Vanderbrook Champions Book 4) Page 9
