“We’ve just got word of a breaking story that needs to be announced immediately, for the sake of public safety,” said the female anchor. “A bomb threat has been called in just outside the government building on Douglas Street. I repeat, there has been a bomb threat. The police have just announced an evacuation of the area.”
Malcolm felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight. It was Multi’s style to call ahead and let people know about the impending terror, at least usually. Malcolm didn’t take him to be the sympathetic sort, rather, he used it as an opportunity to create more chaos, to show that even if he broadcasted his intentions in advance, he still couldn’t be stopped.
Part of him had hoped that by stopping the fertilizer heist, Multi’s bombings would be at least temporarily halted. No such luck. Malcolm pulled on his mask and hurried out into the night, wincing at the pain in his shoulder as he made his way up the ladder.
It was dark enough outside for him to forgo stealth. He used his wind manipulation to soar through the air, wind cold against his face and roaring in his ears. It was a cloudy night, so he flew just above the low skyline, maintaining visual contact with Vanderbrook below.
Malcolm landed on the slanted roof of a museum half a block down from the government building. He dropped to his stomach, reducing his profile as much as he could whilst peering out into the night.
He first tried wind listening, but there were still too many noises for him to pick up any useful information. He did notice that the government building had no discernable police presence. He smiled wryly at that.
The police hunt me, but are terrified of Multi. Being a good guy has no perks.
Malcolm had one other trick up his sleeve that he’d been toying with for the past week. He took a deep breath, entering the same state he’d normally use for wind listening, but instead focused on his secondary power, instead.
He didn’t use his heat manipulation actively, but rather, used it to sense any and all nearby sources of heat. It was as though someone had pulled thermal goggles down over his eyes. Each of the streetlights gave off tiny little red halos of heat, and he could see figures in the street and in buildings through their fuzzy red auras.
Malcolm searched for anyone who seemed to be out of place, eventually settling on the shape of a person who was slowly approaching the government building from an alleyway. He rose to his feet and pushed off into the air, moving toward the suspicious pedestrian. He landed within striking range, just behind them.
Tapestry whirled on him, swinging her pistol to point at his head. Malcolm froze. He’d been expecting Tapestry and Second Wind to appear as a group of two. On her own, without Malcolm’s copy to subtly run interference, there was no telling what she might do. She could very well decide to pull the trigger and be rid of him.
“I should have known that you were involved with this,” she said, her voice trembling with anger.
“I’m here for the same reason you are,” said Malcolm, throwing his voice. “The bomb threat. We need to work together.”
He tried to take a step back. Tapestry immediately moved forward, keeping the gun where it was.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “I don’t buy it.”
Malcolm scowled.
I don’t have time for this!
“If we don’t work together, people will die!” he hissed. “The bomb could go off at any time. We need to spread out and search the area.”
“And you could be the bomber,” said Tapestry. “That seems just as likely as-“
Malcolm threw caution to the wind, spinning with wind assisted speed and knocking Tapestry’s pistol loose from her hand. She gasped, but didn’t hesitate, immediately tackling him before he could take to the air.
They fell to the ground in a tangled heap. Tapestry made a move as though to grab Malcolm’s mask. His hands went to it, ready to pull it back down, but as he did, he exposed his torso. Tapestry responded with several fast jabs, which landed on his ribs and stomach.
“You’re being an idiot!” Malcolm shouted. He reached out and seized Tapestry’s wrist, and felt the familiar tingling of absorbing the power of another champion.
In that moment, the fight went out of him. Malcolm had kept his heat manipulation for the past few weeks, keeping his power mimicry in check around Rose to keep from accidentally absorbing her powers. He’d done it for two reasons.
First it was essential to keeping up his identity as the Gifted Vigilante. It was his calling card, and also a way of distracting the press’s attention from his true identity.
The second reason was more sentimental. It was the only thing he had left to remember his brother by, and now it was gone. As small of a comfort as it had been, it had made Malcolm feel like part of his brother was living on through him. And Tapestry had just extinguished that.
He slammed his hands up into her chest, accidentally pushing with the wind along with his arms. Tapestry was too busy being knocked off him to notice, or so Malcolm hoped. He stood up, glaring at her angrily.
“Is this really what you want to do?” snapped Malcolm. “Stand here and wrestle with me while the real bomber is-”
The bomb went off without preamble. The force of the explosion was enough to throw Malcolm forward. He slammed into Tapestry, knocking her over before continuing his tumble across the cold concrete of the alleyway.
The combination of a stunning head blow and ringing ears made it hard for Malcolm to regain his bearings in the minutes immediately following the attack. He slowly blinked his eyes, banishing away double vision.
Tapestry was staggering toward him. For a moment, Malcolm thought that she was going to make another grab at his mask, but she didn’t. She looked at him, and Malcolm realized that she was making sure that he was still alive.
He was, though several scrapes and bruises made his body ache all over. Tapestry ran off toward the epicenter of the blast. Malcolm struggled to his feet and followed after her.
The damage was insane. The government building was completely demolished, as were most of the buildings on the block. Malcolm and Tapestry had only barely been shielded from it by a truck parked in front of the alleyway, which was charred and melted on one side and untouched on the other.
Small fires burned amidst the rubble, and from within destroyed cars. The police had done what they could to evacuate the area, but Malcolm spotted at least three corpses strewn within the wreckage of the bomb, one of them too small to be a fully grown adult. Malcolm could imagine it easily: a scared child, intimidated by the police’s hurried knock, hiding under her bed or in a closet with no idea of what was to come.
Tapestry’s expression was blank, but dark emotions clouded her eyes. Malcolm felt his anger rising as well, both at Multi, for creating this mess, but at Tapestry too. She’d mistaken him for the bomber and blown their chance to save lives.
He was about to tell her as much, but held his tongue, suddenly struck by the fact that Second Wind was nowhere to be seen. Malcolm, back when he’d been Wind Runner, would never have let Tapestry charge into a situation like this on her own.
Between this and what happened the other day, something is up.
Malcolm debated staying, and making another attempt at convincing Tapestry that he was one of the good guys. There was no point, he decided. And as much as he didn’t like admitting it to himself, staring at the destruction Multi had wrought upon the city that night made him sick to his stomach.
He leapt into flight just as Tapestry turned back to look at him. She trained her gun on him, but didn’t fire as he took to the sky.
CHAPTER 20
Malcolm didn’t find Second Wind back at his apartment. The inside looked untouched since he’d been their earlier in the day. Books were still strewn across the living room floor, the kitchen counter clear of any dirty dishes or signs of someone having eaten. The loaded revolver still sat next to the bed.
Malcolm checked the bathroom for any discarded clothes or wet towels. They’d worked up a swea
t fighting the Multis. Second Wind would have at least taken a shower. There was nothing there, nothing to suggest that his copy had come back and left again.
Second Wind’s phone was sitting on his desk in his room. Malcolm had noticed it earlier when he’d been inside the apartment, but it hadn’t seemed out of place. Second Wind had gotten his text about the fertilizer heist and probably just forgotten it in the rush to meet up with him.
Lacking any other good options, Malcolm picked up the phone. There were a couple of missed calls and an angry text message from Tapestry. The call log and messages had been cleared recently, preventing him from seeing who his copy had been talking to, and about what.
He tapped on the email app, wondering if there would be any clues there. It was another part of his life that his copy had inherited. Second Wind wasn’t logged into his account, but Malcolm tried his own password, and was surprised when the app accepted it without complaint.
I guess there’d be no real sense in changing it, just because I know it. I probably would have been able to guess whatever he might have changed it to, anyway.
His inbox was empty. All of the emails outside of the spam folder had been deleted, including ones that Malcolm had written long before he’d used Multi’s power. Even ones from his life before becoming a champion were gone, as though Second Wind had wanted to wipe away any trace of ever having been Malcolm.
He slowly shook his head, putting the information into place alongside Second Wind’s surly attitude, and the philosophy books on the floor. The bigger picture was clear enough. His copy didn’t want to go on being “Malcolm”, at least not in the capacity that was needed for Wind Runner to continue as a champion.
Malcolm spent half an hour thumbing through the books, trying to get a better grasp of a mind that should make perfect sense to him, but didn’t. The weeks that had passed since the last time they’d both been the same person had changed them both far more than he’d realized.
A harsh knock came at the door, jolting him out of his considerations. Malcolm reached up to his face, making sure his mask was still in place.
“Malcolm!” shouted Tapestry. “If you’re in there, open this door this instant and explain!”
Malcolm chewed his lower lip. He had a choice this time. If he wanted to, he could escape out the window. Even if Tapestry heard and ran down the hallway in time, she wouldn’t catch more than a glimpse of him in the dark.
And then she’d assume that it’s “me”, running away from her and this situation. I think “I” have done enough damage to my own reputation, for one night.
He smiled, remembering all the times in life when he’d been given the advice to “just be himself”. It was finally time to put that idea to the test.
“Give me a minute,” he called, trying to make himself sound weary. Malcolm stripped off his mask and clothing, changing into Second Wind’s clothes, instead. His copy had made some changes to his wardrobe, and he found a new pair of sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt to throw on.
He opened the door, and Tapestry all but burst through it, jabbing a finger in his face. She had on a brown leather jacket and tight jeans, and was still covered in dust from the explosion. Her eyes were a little puffy, probably from smoke irritation, rather than tears.
“You abandoned your duty tonight, Wind Runner!” She jabbed him in the chest. “You let me, your partner, go out alone to face the enemy we’ve been hunting for weeks! I tried calling you. I knocked on your door. Where the heck were you?”
Malcolm hesitated. He didn’t want to lie to her. It made him angry to realize that he had to, and even angrier at the fact that it wasn’t even to cover for himself.
He’d better have a good fucking explanation. Just like I need to have one, right now.
“I got a tip about Multi stealing a fertilizer truck,” he said. “I followed up on it and… lost track of time.”
Tapestry’s anger continued to burn in her eyes, but she lowered her hand, shutting the door behind her as she walked into the apartment.
“Did you stop him, at least?” she asked.
Malcolm nodded.
“I thought that was all he had planned,” said Malcolm. “I thought that stopping the truck would stop, or at least delay, his next bombing. I let the ball drop on this one. I’m sorry.”
His words seemed to mollify her somewhat, but there was still emotion in her expression as she turned to look at him.
“Why didn’t you at least tell me?” asked Tapestry. “I’m your partner, Malcolm. For you to just ignore me like this…”
She trailed off. Malcolm had enough understanding of what had been going on in Second Wind’s life over the past few weeks to know what was left unsaid. She wasn’t just Second Wind’s partner. She wasn’t just a close friend and occasional lover, as she’d been to Malcolm.
The two of them had developed something more, and if Malcolm wanted to keep Tapestry from being completely heart broken, he needed to find the words that Second Wind should have been saying.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t have my phone with me. I’ve been paranoid, lately. Feeling like maybe Multi has the tools to track us.”
“And you didn’t check it when you came back to the apartment?” demanded Tapestry.
Malcolm shrugged.
“I checked it,” he said, honestly. “And then I turned on the news and saw that the situation had been resolved. I figured you’d come here next and… I wanted to apologize to you in person.”
Tapestry sighed and slowly shook her head, a bit of the tension leaving her shoulders.
“What has been going on with you the last couple of days?” she asked. “Is this because of us? Are you scared of… whatever it is that we have?”
Malcolm felt like he was walking a tightrope, with Tapestry’s emotions on one side and his copy’s privacy and right to a life of his own on the other.
“It’s the opposite of that,” he said. “Tapestry. I miss you so much when you aren’t around.”
He reached his arms out and pulled her into a hug. Malcolm half expected her to push him away. The Tapestry he’d known, before taking on his new identity, would have probably pushed him away. This Tapestry melted against his chest, her hands running up and along his back.
“Malcolm…” whispered Tapestry. “We’re losing.”
Malcolm stroked her hair with his hand.
“What are you talking about?”
“This isn’t like last time,” she said. “Or any of the other demons I’ve fought before. We don’t have other champions backing us up. And Multi… he isn’t a single enemy, he’s an army. An army of demons who aren’t afraid to die.”
There was doubt in her voice. That was new to Malcolm. He’d never known Tapestry to be anything other than confident and controlled. He found himself considering her fears, and realizing that they extended beyond her.
Is it the same for Second Wind? Is he struggling under the pressure to take on Multi, to be the champion standing between the city and chaos?
“It’s not like last time,” said Malcolm. “But we aren’t going to give up. Not now, and not ever. It’s that simple. Isn’t it?”
Tapestry turned her face up toward his. Malcolm felt excitement and hot desire wash over him as their eyes met. He’d wanted so badly to protect her, his partner, his friend. His lover. Even his arrangement with Second Wind had been designed to protect her from the ugly truth of Malcolm’s complicated life.
Thinking of that gave him pause, even as he felt Tapestry’s soft breasts against his chest. She rose up on her toes, one of her hands caressing his cheek. Malcolm’s heart pounded in his chest, and his entire body felt hot and ready.
He kissed her, and the pleasure and emotion of it was instantly entrancing. Tapestry pushed herself against him and let out a little moan, her hips pushing forward in an attempt to find his. Malcolm broke the kiss found himself suddenly walking backward. Tapestry was pushing him toward his bed.
It’s not
my bed anymore…
Tapestry tipped him back on it, and the two were rolling together across the sheets like young lovers, given an hour of privacy. Malcolm groped at her breasts. He felt Tapestry’s hands running over his crotch, admiring his erection with her fingers. Had she ever been this lively before?
The guilt hit him as he faced the truth of the situation. By kissing Tapestry, by doing whatever they were about to do, Malcolm was engaging in both betrayal and deception. He had an idea how Second Wind would react. They were both Malcolm, but when it came to love and intimacy, was that fact enough to beat jealousy?
But worse was Tapestry, who kissed him without any idea of who he really was. Tapestry, who hated when people she trusted kept secrets, and had already worked through her suspicions of Malcolm in the past.
“Stop thinking so much,” whispered Tapestry. She kissed him again, her fingers stroking his hardness through his jeans. He wanted her so badly, despite all the reasons why he shouldn’t.
Tapestry pulled her blouse up and over her head, revealing small, but perfect breasts and the pink bra that enveloped them. She delighted in his reaction, clasping her hands and pulling her arms together for a moment to exaggerate her cleavage. She was more sexually confident than she had been, there was no denying it. And Malcolm didn’t like where that thought led.
He was so caught up with his own internal dilemma that he didn’t notice as Tapestry reached down to the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up and over his head. Malcolm raised his arms, only realizing how foolish he was as he felt the bandages on his shoulder catch on the fabric and pull off along with his clothing.
No! She’ll see my shoulder, the wounds there, and recognize that she gave me one of them! She’ll know everything…
Tapestry tossed the garment aside and brought her face in closer to his. She stole a quick kiss, as though there was nothing remarkable about Malcolm’s exposed flesh. And, he suddenly realized, there wasn’t. He had absorbed her power, and he’d grown so used to the effects of it that he’d had never stopped to consider that it would, of course, heal all of his wounds without leaving so much as a scar.
Chaste Widow (Vanderbrook Champions Book 4) Page 10
