She stepped out of the shadows. She still only had a towel on, and her expression was all remorse and fear.
“Like I said, she’s tough,” said Malcolm. “Now, tell me about the men.”
“It’s hard for me to think right now,” said the woman. “I’m just so scared!”
She took a step toward him, and the fold of her towel came loose. Malcolm had noticed her body the first time he’d met her. It was everything he’d imagined it to be. Her breasts were large, with faint, half circle tan lines. She had a trim waist, thick thighs and a firm butt.
She made a feeble attempt at covering her nudity, slowly closing the distance between them and averting her eyes. Malcolm wasn’t stupid. He knew what she’d try to do next.
“Hey…” He reached out with his hands, taking her shoulders, and also taking her power with his mimicry. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”
“I’m so scared,” she said. “Please… will you hold me?”
She turned her mouth up toward his. Malcolm grinned and gave her a quick kiss. As expected, nothing happened, her power canceling out against itself, now that he’d absorbed it from her. The look on Chaste Widow’s face was enough to make Malcolm chuckle.
“I’m out of your league,” he said. “Sorry. Nice try though.”
“You…” Chaste Widow slowly shook her head. “My power… doesn’t work on you?”
“So when you kiss people, they die?” asked Malcolm. “That seems more unfortunate, than useful. Is there any way for you to-”
He was interrupted by Chaste Widow’s lips. She gave him a quick kiss, the same kind he’d given her, and then followed it up with a deeper, more passionate one. Malcolm was too bewildered to do much in the way of kissing her back. He shook his head as her lips broke from his.
“I don’t think jamming your tongue into my mouth will make your power more potent,” said Malcolm.
Chaste Widow flashed a coy smile.
“What happens if I surrender?” she asked.
Malcolm blinked, feeling as caught off guard by her sudden change of heart as he had by the deep kiss.
“What?”
“If I surrender to you,” she said. “Theoretically, what would happen?”
“And why would you do that?” asked Malcolm. “You tried to kill my partner and me to escape. You don’t seem like the surrendering, submissive type.”
Chaste Widow leaned in closer to him, letting her naked body push against him.
“I’m not,” she whispered, her voice taking on a decidedly sexual tone.
Malcolm considered it. If she surrendered, either he or Tapestry, or more likely, both of them, would have to keep guard over her until the Champion Authority sent someone to transport her to another location. It could take weeks, maybe even months.
That wouldn’t work. Especially not with Rose injured and Second Wind missing. I need my mobility.
“Okay,” said Malcolm. “If you surrender, and promise not to kill anyone else, and become my informant for the indefinite future, we’ll call it even.”
It was Chaste Widow’s turn to look surprised.
“You… barely know anything about me,” she said. “Why would you trust me like that?”
Because I’m lazy, and don’t really have a choice.
Malcolm kept the thought to himself. Instead, he considered what he did know about her. Her husband was dead, and she’d gone on a vengeance inspired killing spree in the aftermath, picking up men from bars and giving them her kiss of death. She’d seemed polite, controlled, and focused when he’d spoken to her in Terri’s Tavern.
“The men that you killed,” said Malcolm. “Did they deserve it?”
Chaste Widow didn’t react to the question. Malcolm wasn’t sure whether to take it as a yes or no, but he was already reasonably sure of his suspicions.
“So you’re letting me go on trust alone?” she asked.
Malcolm grinned at her.
“Maybe it’s because you’re such a good kisser,” he said.
CHAPTER 23
Getting Tapestry to accept his reasoning, as it turned out, was nearly impossible. She was still recovering from Chaste Widow’s kiss of death when Malcolm found her upstairs. After it became clear that he would have no real luck convincing her, he opted for the brute force approach, carrying her weakened body out to her car and driving her home.
“You’re a sucker,” said Tapestry, in a strained voice. “I bet all she did was drop her towel, and you suddenly were filled with sympathy for her.”
“Uh…” Malcolm tried to keep from smiling at how close that was to the truth. “Look, like I said before, we couldn’t feasibly keep her as our prisoner until the Champion Authority could send someone out here.”
“And if she keeps murdering people?” asked Tapestry.
“Then we come after her again,” said Malcolm. “More importantly, if she holds up her end of the deal, we’ll have a gifted informant. That could come in handy in tracking down Multi.”
Tapestry gave him an odd look.
“We’ve already started tracking down Multi,” she said, in a confused voice. “Do you not remember talking about this yesterday morning? The evidence we found after the bombing of the police station?”
“Oh, that,” said Malcolm, trying to sound casual. “Right. When are we going to act on that?”
Tapestry coughed.
“We would have today,” she said. “But I’m going to need some time to recover. If I do some baking I should be back to myself by tomorrow morning.”
“Sounds good,” said Malcolm. “I’m going to run some errands for the afternoon. Will you be fine at home?”
Tapestry shrugged.
“Apart from friction with Melanie, I should be.” She hesitated as Malcolm pulled the car into her driveway. “About… what I said last night. While we were…”
“Tapestry…” The last thing Malcolm wanted was to have this discussion over again. He’d already done enough blundering in his attempt to keep Second Wind’s life rolling along smoothly. He still felt a deep guilt over what he’d done, and knew that it would probably drive a rift between him and his copy, if Second Wind found out about it.
I have to eject from this situation. If he comes back soon, great. If not… I’ll figure something else out.
“Look,” he continued. “I just feel a little overwhelmed right now. You know how much I care about you. Just give me some time.”
They weren’t the words that Tapestry had been hoping for, but were good enough. Tapestry smiled at him and nodded.
“I know,” she said. “And I will.”
“Do you want me to help you inside?” asked Malcolm.
“No,” said Tapestry. “I can manage.”
He gave her back her keys and watched her disappear through the front door of her house. Malcolm started walking down the street, taking out his phone and turning his attention to other pressing matters.
He was worried about Rose. He’d hadn’t spoken to her in almost two days and needed to know how she was doing. Malcolm dialed the number for the spryte phone, feeling his heart beating a little faster in his chest as he listened to it ring.
“Helllooooo?” Fantasy drawled into the phone, feminine and openly flirtatious.
“Fantasy,” Malcolm said. “I need to speak with Rose.”
“Oh,” she said. “Of course.”
The change in her voice was concerning. Fantasy was always playful and inappropriate, even when the situation was dire. For her to sound so serious now made him think that something was really wrong.
He waited for a while, and then he heard the phone being picked back, and Rose clearing her throat.
“Hello?”
“Rose,” said Malcolm. “It’s me.”
Rose let out a soft, relieved sigh.
“I was worried, you know,” she said. “Thought you’d be checking up on me a little more closely, given how much of a worrier you are.”
Malcolm smiled.
He could almost sense Rose shrugging on the other end of the line.
“Well enough,” she said. “Rion managed to get the bullet out, though she attributes the success of the operation to the alignment of Mars and Jupiter, whatever that means.”
Malcolm chuckled.
“That sounds like her,” he said. “Can I see you?”
“I already asked Shield Maiden,” said Rose. “She didn’t even bother giving me a real answer. She just gave me that smile of hers and pretended like I’d never asked.”
“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” said Malcolm. “I’ve been down there before.”
“Wind Runner has been to Underworld before,” corrected Rose. “Not the Gifted Vigilante.”
Malcolm sighed.
“Point taken,” he said. “But you’re recovering okay?”
“Better than I’d expected to,” said Rose. “My body seems to heal more quickly than most people, but only when I’m in the dark.”
“You’re the Queen of the Shadows,” said Malcolm, in mock wonder. “Mistress of the Night.”
“And you’re the King of Lazy Sarcasm,” said Rose. She paused and took a breath, and Malcolm heard her shudder as she exhaled.
She’s not okay.
“Did something happen?” asked Malcolm.
Rose was silent for long enough to make Malcolm wonder if he’d lost the connection. He resisted the urge to swear under his breath, wishing so badly that he could talk to her in person and hold her in his arms. It was painful, hearing her voice, knowing she was hurting, and being so far away from her.
“Brenden called,” she said.
Malcolm furrowed his brow.
“Brenden has your number?” asked Malcolm. “The number for the sprytes.”
“I gave it to him,” said Rose, softly. “Before I knew he was going to…”
“Right,” said Malcolm. He scratched his head. “Did you talk to him? What did he want?”
He couldn’t keep a hint of annoyance out of his voice. Perhaps it was even jealousy. Brenden had called Rose while she’d been recovering, while Malcolm was off filling in for Second Wind. The fact that Brenden had recently tried to kill Rose didn’t seem to factor into his base emotional reaction.
“He… told me he was sorry.” Rose’s voice wavered as she spoke. “He said so many things, all this stuff about love and about how he was just so mad and confused.”
“Rose, he shot you,” said Malcolm. “That’s not something that you just apologize for.”
“I know, I know,” said Rose. “I just… It’s so hard for me to think. I hear his voice, and…”
She paused, and Malcolm could hear her trying to master her emotions.
“I just can’t believe he did it,” said Rose. “I can’t remember anything about him, except… for the way he makes me feel. And that scares me… so badly. I don’t understand how he could do what he did. How can you hurt someone that loves you like that?”
The question was on Malcolm’s lips. He dared not ask it aloud.
So, she loves him?
This time, he knew his jealousy for what it was. Rose was crying softly on the other end of the line. Malcolm silently cursed Shield Maiden’s name for not letting him down into Underworld to see her. He forced the rational part of his mind to take control of his voice.
“What can I do, Rose?” he asked. “I don’t want you suffer like this. Tell me how I can help?”
He felt so many emotions twisting in his chest. He would try to help, however he could. Even if it tore him apart. Even if she wanted distance from him, and a chance to sort out her own feelings. All that mattered was that she was suffering, and it wasn’t something Malcolm could bear to see.
“He wants me to meet him again,” said Rose.
“No!” Malcolm snapped. “Absolutely not. I don’t care what he said to you Rose. He tried to kill you.”
“I know…” Her words came out intermingled with a sob. “I know. And I don’t think I could do it, either. It would too much for me to see him again. But… I need to know why, Malcolm.”
“Where is he?”
“Promise me that you won’t hurt him,” said Rose.
Malcolm hesitated, and hoped she wouldn’t read too much into it.
“I promise,” he lied.
If he gives me any excuse, I will gladly break that promise. I’ll be a liar, just this one time.
“Please,” said Rose. “Ask him why. Tell him that… I’m just so confused. And I need to know why. And the full story. My… story.”
Malcolm agreed. Rose gave him the address to another motel where Brenden had told her he was now staying.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” said Malcolm. “You should rest.”
“…I miss you,” said Rose.
“I miss you too,” said Malcolm. “So much.”
They were both silent for a few seconds. The pause in conversation was both comforting and expectant, as it was clear that there were some words that could fill that particular space, if either of them wanted to say them. Malcolm’s heart ached for her.
“I should get going,” he said. “Don’t want to waste the rest of the afternoon if I’m going to meet Brenden.”
“Right,” said Rose. “Thank you.”
She made a noise that suggested that she’d just kissed the phone. Malcolm chuckled, and they teased each other for a bit before saying goodbye.
CHAPTER 24
The second motel was even shabbier than the first. Malcom didn’t know what that said about Brenden, maybe the guy was just down on his luck. Whatever the reason, the place was a dump. He could smell the stench of stale cigarette smoke and the essence of unwashed bodies even before he entered the lobby.
He found Brenden’s room and hesitated before knocking. There was no telling how the man would respond to Malcolm showing up instead of Rose. Malcolm knew very little about him, and what he knew wasn’t good. He was volatile, homicidal and he owned a gun.
If he tries to shoot me, I’ll at least have an excuse to deal him some pain.
Malcolm tried not to dwell on the thought as he knocked. The door opened after a couple of seconds. Brenden raised an eyebrow when he saw Malcolm on the other side. His eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark bags underneath them. He still wore the same clothes Malcolm had last seen him in.
“So, she sent you,” said Brenden. “What are you… her boyfriend? Or… just a friend?”
Malcolm smiled slightly at the question. Part of him wished that he’d worn his mask, though he hadn’t bothered with it when he’d intervened during Brenden and Rose’s meeting. No, he decided. It was better for both of them if Brenden could see his face, read his emotions, and get an understanding of the new life that Rose had made for herself.
“I’m someone who cares about her,” said Malcolm, sidestepping the question. “And I’m here for answers.”
He flexed his hand. Part of him wanted to cut to the chase and attack Brenden, hurt him until he gave up the story that Rose was seeking. He forced the urge down, knowing that violence might have the opposite effect and lead to Brenden refusing to say anything.
“Answers…” mumbled Brenden. “Yeah, cause those are so easy to come by in life.”
There were bottles on the floor, more than there should have been, given that he’d only been in the motel room for a night or two. Brenden’s breath smelled of whiskey even though Malcolm was standing well clear of him.
“She needs to know the truth,” said Malcolm. “Will you give it to me?”
He almost hoped that Brenden would refuse. It would give Malcolm enough of an excuse to do what he really felt like doing. He pictured Rose holding her stomach after Brenden had shot her, the look of betrayal and despair on her face.
“The truth,” muttered Brenden. “I wanted her to remember the truth. I wonder if she’d even believe me if I told it to her
straight.”
He reached over to the room’s small table, picking up several different liquor bottles and setting them back down until he found one with something left in it.
“She wants to hear it, regardless of whether it’s easy or not,” said Malcolm.
“But she sent you…” Surprisingly, Brenden’s voice carried a note of hurt in it. “She sent you to ask her questions and do her fucking dirty work.”
“She sent me because you tried to kill her,” said Malcolm.
He wanted to say more about that, to share with Brenden how much pain he’d put Rose through by offering it back to him, first hand. Malcolm took a slow breath and forced himself to be patient. Brenden started chuckling, apparently sensing his struggle.
“Alright then,” said Brenden. “Why don’t I tell you the truth? Does that sound swell to you, mister concerned boyfriend?”
Malcolm didn’t say anything. Brenden took another drink, steadied himself, and then nodded.
“Rose… Rosalina… was one of the first,” he said. “She discovered her gifts on the day of the Phenomenon. I was with her when it happened. I won’t go into detail about what we were doing at the time, for your sake.”
He grinned, and Malcolm felt a surge of unnecessary jealousy.
“She was powerful,” said Brenden. “She helped people. She was the fucking poster child for how a person should act when given an advantage over others. She linked up with the Champion Watch, that’s what it was called before it became the Champion Authority. She did it full time, fighting criminals. Fighting monsters. The works.”
Malcolm had already assumed as much about Rose’s past, based off what she’d told him. She had, over time, remembered a few details. The last year leading up to her becoming a spryte, however, was still a mystery.
“What happened when she turned?” asked Malcolm.
Brenden let out a long groan.
“You just want to jump straight to the point,” he said. “Fuck it. Fine. We were leaving for vacation. They called in a travel warning on the radio, some kind of demon who generate blasts of concentrated force. It was between us and the airport.”
Chaste Widow (Vanderbrook Champions Book 4) Page 12
