“I haven’t kissed anyone since…” she trailed. “Well, it’s been a while. At least since I’ve kissed anyone without them dying afterward.”
She reached her free hand over and traced Malcolm’s lips with it.
“Let me kiss you,” she said. “And I’ll kiss you back. Wherever you want.”
Malcolm’s hormones surged, fueled by alcohol and emotional fatigue. He took a deep breath and forced himself to shake his head.
“Not tonight,” he said.
“What?” Chaste Widow looked shocked, as though she’d never been rejected before. “But... you know I’m not just teasing you, right?”
She moved in closer to him and made to slide her hand down his pants. Malcolm caught it and gave it a reproachful, but soft squeeze.
“Not tonight,” he repeated again.
Chaste Widow was pouting, but she gave him an accepting nod, her face showing her respect for him.
“Good,” said Malcolm. “Well… It’s late.”
“It’s very late.” Chaste Widow cleared her throat. “And I should be going. Thanks for being such a tease tonight, you big meanie.”
“And thanks for the company,” said Malcolm.
CHAPTER 27
Malcolm’s sleep was uneasy that night. It was dreamless, but he woke often, each time feeling anxious. He was up far earlier than he needed to be and didn’t waste any time getting dressed. He ate a quick breakfast, donned his black clothing and mask, and left his underground lair.
He wasn’t about to let Tapestry and Second Wind face Multi on their own. It was just too dangerous. Despite everything Second Wind had said and the threats he’d made, Malcolm’s fear of what would happen if he let the two of them go in alone was even greater.
It would be suicide. Multi is too smart, and too powerful.
Dawn hadn’t yet broken over Vanderbrook’s skyline when he stole away from the warehouse. He made his way to the park across the street from Second Wind’s apartment just as rays of light began to peek above the horizon. He found a bench hidden from direct view line of Second Wind’s windows and sat down, concentrating on listening using the wind.
There was nothing discernable at first. He knew Second Wind was home, as he could hear the sounds of his soft snoring. Close to an hour passed before he saw Tapestry’s black BMW pull up in front of the apartment.
He watched as she walked up to the apartment and tried the locked door handle. She knocked until Second Wind opened the door, and then stepped inside.
Part of Malcolm was shamefully curious of how his copy behaved around Tapestry when the two of them were on their own. Especially after Malcolm’s brief foray back into his old life. He held his breath and listened to their conversation.
“You look terrible,” said Tapestry. “Not feeling much better, I take it?”
“No, I’m fine,” said Second Wind. “Or as they said back in your day, I’m fit as a fiddle.”
Malcolm heard the sound of Tapestry’s fist impacting against shoulder muscle. It wasn’t a light tap, either.
“Seriously,” said Tapestry. “This might be the only chance we get. You need to be focused, Wind Runner.”
“We have to move today, whether I am or not,” said Second Wind. “It doesn’t seem like he’s planning on staying in that old factory for long.”
Old factory? So Multi set up shop in the abandoned industrial park. Why does that place seem like a hotbed for monster activity?
“You’re right,” said Tapestry. “But we still have to be careful. We’ll move in slow, and scout it out as we go. That’s the only way we can pull this off.”
Malcolm took a breath and felt an airborne dandelion tuft sneak into his throat. He coughed. Across the street in the apartment, he heard Second Wind draw in his own breath quickly.
“What is it?” asked Tapestry. “What’s wrong?”
He felt his hopes of going unseen blow away with the wind. He’d been stupid enough to forget that anything he could do, Second Wind could do just as well. Of course he’d be using the wind to listen. After the last words they’d shared the night before, he’d have to assume that Malcolm would try to crash their party.
Second Wind left the apartment through the open window. He soared across the street, toward the park. Malcolm made no move to run or hide as his copy landed in front of him, both of Second Wind’s hands clasped into fists.
The two of them squared off against each other, adopting identical fighting stances. Malcolm didn’t see anger in his copy’s expression, just a cold determination to follow through with his warning.
The only important difference between the two of them, in the context of a fight, was their abilities. They each had wind manipulation, which canceled out any advantage it might give. Malcolm still had Chaste Widow’s death kiss power. Second Wind most likely had Tapestry’s regeneration.
Neither power would lend itself to a fight like this. This was a fight not to kill, but to make the other submit. They knew each other too intimately, like two brothers, but even closer. The goal for both of them was to dominate, or at least defeat, rather than destroy.
Malcolm felt he owed it to his copy to make the first move. He feinted forward with a punch, spinning and speeding himself with the wind for a spinning kick in the wake of it. Second Wind dodged, dropping low and coming up for an upper cut.
Malcolm leaned back far enough for it to miss and immediately shielded over his head, knowing Second Wind would reverse it for a downward strike. He countered with a quick jab to Second Wind’s stomach, which he traded for a kick to the thigh muscle.
Why does it have to be like this? Why can’t we both just get along?
If Second Wind was having similar thoughts, he didn’t let it show in his eyes. He darted forward, gearing up to throw one of the wild, hard punches that Malcolm so often relied on when fighting unskilled opponents.
Malcolm reacted to what his copy was about to do on instinct, but moved a second too late. The punch was a feint. Instead of carrying it all the way forward, Second Wind spun into his guard and through his forehead into Malcolm’s face. It was a cheap and vicious attack, and Malcolm had probably only been a few seconds away from trying it himself.
He stumbled backward. Second Wind pressed forward with his advantage, pummeling Malcolm’s abdomen. Malcolm kept his guard up, desperate to protect his head. Tapestry had finally found them, and she let out a furious shout. He wasn’t sure who she’d meant it for.
Second Wind kneed Malcolm hard in the stomach. He groaned and fell forward, deciding that it was time to play the card he’d hoped to keep in his deck. He slipped a hand into the back of his waist band and pulled out Brenden’s taser, tagging Second Wind in the shoulder with it before his copy had time to react.
It was as though Malcolm had flipped a switch and turned his copy off. He wondered if he would have done such a thing, had it been a real and simple possibility. Second Wind crumpled to the ground, legs twitching slightly. Malcolm heard Tapestry shout something else. He glanced over and saw that she had her gun trained on him. With his mask still on, all she saw when she looked at him was the vigilante.
“Leave him alone!” she shouted. “I don’t know why you’re here, and I don’t care. We’re past that point.”
“No.” Second Wind spoke before Malcolm could. “No… It’s over. Put the gun down, Tapestry. He wins.”
Malcolm stared at Second Wind. His copy had surprised him so many times in the past few days that he couldn’t help but wonder if the process was as seamless as Multi and his duplicates had made it appear. He had no idea what was going on in Second Wind’s mind, and given how familiar of a face the man wore, it scared the hell out of him.
“You win,” said Second Wind. “It’s yours. You can have it. I’m done.”
He slowly stood to his feet, and then leapt into the air. Malcolm crouched, ready to jump into flight to follow him. Tapestry cocked her pistol.
“Don’t move!” she shouted. “I swear to
god, I will shoot you.”
It wasn’t an empty threat, and he didn’t take it as one. Malcolm stood where he was, watching Second Wind’s figure disappear into the clouds. What was his copy thinking? Was this really the end of their partnership? What did that mean for Malcolm, and for Vanderbrook?
It’s too soon to think about that. Better to focus on immediate problems.
“What did he mean by that?” snapped Tapestry. “Tell me! Explain everything, including why two of you seemed to know each other.”
“It’s complicated,” said Malcolm, gruffly. “We’re… friends, of a sort.”
Tapestry didn’t look like she believed him, and he didn’t blame her.
“Where did he go?” asked Tapestry. “And why… what did you do?”
“That’s a really good question.” Malcolm sighed. “But I don’t think I have an answer that would make sense to you. Now, are you going to shoot me? Or are we just going to stand here all day?”
Tapestry glared at him.
“You’re a renegade,” she said. “It would be simpler to shoot you, and be done with it.”
Malcolm leapt into the air. Tapestry didn’t fire.
CHAPTER 28
Malcolm didn’t go far, only disappearing out of Tapestry’s sight before doubling back to watch the apartment. He was almost tempted to ditch his mask, change his clothes, and attempt to sub in for Second Wind, right then and there. But there were too many continuity issues, enough that Tapestry would know that something was off.
Besides… I don’t know what Second Wind is planning. He might cool down and come back soon.
Even as the thought entered Malcolm’s awareness, he knew it wasn’t the case. Somewhere, a line had been crossed, and he was pretty sure it was his doing. He doubted that there was any coming back from what had just happened, not after how serious a warning Second Wind had issued the night before.
So instead, Malcolm watched from the down the street. Tapestry returned to the apartment to retrieve her keys and then climbed into her car. She pulled onto the street, and drove in the opposite direction of her home.
He frowned, following her on foot until her car turned around a corner in the distance. He flew up onto a building where he could watch its path more easily. She was headed toward the old industrial park. Toward Multi.
Malcolm’s phone rang. It was the number of the spryte phone. He answered, expecting Rose, but throwing his voice just in case it was one of the others.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” said Rose. “You aren’t at your hideout.”
“You’re feeling better, then?” he asked.
“Much.”
“Good,” said Malcolm. “Can you meet me? I need your help.”
Ten minutes later, Malcolm and Rose stood on top of one of the abandoned buildings overlooking Vanderbrook’s old industrial park. Tapestry had left her car on a nearby street and was slowly approaching an old electronics factory, gun in hand.
“Hold on,” said Rose. “Explain this to me again. Your copy is missing in action?”
“He’s gone,” said Malcolm. “And this time… I don’t think he’s coming back.”
“Okay,” said Rose. “And that makes it your responsibility to protect the blonde champion, because…?”
“You know her name,” said Malcolm. “And it’s my responsibility because this is my fault. I put her in a situation where she feels like she needs to charge in on her own.”
“It’s not your fault that she’s stupid,” said Rose.
Malcolm gave her a look, though he was glad to see that her spirits had improved. He tried to keep Brenden off his mind, the way his body had gone slack after the gun had gone off during their struggle.
“Are you okay?” asked Rose.
“Fine,” he said. “So how do we follow Tapestry inside without giving away our presence?”
Rose licked her lips.
“The windows are dark, meaning there’s plenty of shadow inside,” she said. “If you can land us near the entrance, we’ll only be exposed for a couple of seconds before I can use my power to cover us.”
Malcolm nodded slowly. Tapestry was slowly creeping toward a side door, scanning for danger as she went.
Something feels off here, and not just the fact that she’s alone…
“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Rose.
Malcolm sighed.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just way too much to think about, right now.”
They waited until Tapestry had been inside for a minute before descending and following her through the same door.
Rose was right about being able to conceal them with her shadows, but the factory was dark enough to make it almost unnecessary. Old automated machines looked like strange, silhouetted monsters, frozen in place. Dust lingered in the air, and the place smelled of oil and rust.
Malcolm’s unease prickled down the back of his neck. It was obviously a trap. Multi was too organized to use such a place as his base, or even for storage. It was a trap, and now that they were inside, it was too late for them to do anything about it.
From the center of the room, a computer screen flickered on. It stood on top of a table, out of place amongst the old industrial equipment and conveyer belts. Malcolm watched Tapestry cautiously approaching it, gun out. He signaled for Rose to follow.
Multi’s face appeared on the screen. Malcolm was again reminded of just how much his old boss had changed. The hallmarks of a demon were all there, off color skin, skull bumps, but the real change had taken place in his eyes. They were gleaming black, little onyx gems reflecting cold determination and ruthlessness.
“Tapestry,” said Multi, enunciating each syllable slowly. “So good of you to finally arrive.”
Malcom heard the sounds of shuffling feet coming from the perimeter of the room. He didn’t need the light to know that the noise was dozens of armed Multi copies moving into place. He tried to keep his fear in check, closing the distance toward the computer screen with Rose at his side.
“And let’s not labor under any illusions,” said Multi. “Mr. Vigilante, why don’t you and your spryte also come out? Join us. Let’s all talk together.”
Tapestry stiffened, gripping the gun tighter in her fingers. She was standing in front of the computer screen, the blue white light giving her a ghostly glow. Malcolm could barely make out the details of her expression as he and Rose came to stand within range of the screen.
“Friends of yours?” asked Tapestry, flicking her head toward Malcolm and Rose. “I always assumed that becoming a demon made you too vain to trust anything other than a copy.”
Multi chuckled.
“It would be closer to the truth to call them friends of yours,” said Multi. “Better friends than you might think. Ah, but we should start from the beginning. I’ve summoned you here for a reason.”
“I’m not interested in talking,” said Tapestry.
Malcolm winced. He reached out into the dark and listened. He sensed that there were at least fifty, maybe sixty Multis waiting in the shadows. He knew that there were rifles trained on them waiting for a command, or for one of them to make the wrong move. There were far more Multis than the three of them could confront, even if they were working together.
“You don’t have to talk,” said Multi. “Just listen. I’ve regained many of my memories from my former life, Tapestry. Enough that I see a… small amount of value in having you serve under me.”
“Serve… under you?” Tapestry was smiling, but Malcolm could sense the tension in her body language.
“Of course,” said Multi. “It would be quite similar to how things once were. Back in… what was it we called it? The Dome? Yes… I would give you orders, and you would carry them out.”
“You’re a demon,” Tapestry pointed out, as though he might have forgotten. “You’re not in control. And we aren’t interested in being your instruments. You already have your copies. Why would you need anyone else?”
“I�
��m not just offering this to you,” said Multi. “In fact, Wind Runner was the one I truly wished to make this offer to.”
Multi’s eyes watched Malcolm through the screen for long enough to make him start sweating under his mask.
“Wind Runner has… a very special kind of potential,” said Multi. “I’m genuinely surprised that he isn’t here, actually. I’ve already spoken to him about this. We were almost at the point of reaching an understanding.”
“Enough,” said Tapestry. “You can lie all you want, but don’t drag Malcolm into this.”
I really wish I could have a say here.
“I’m not lying,” said Multi. “You must have noticed his absence over the past few days. Did you wonder about where he was?”
Confusion flickered across Tapestry’s face. Multi picked up on it, and understanding dawned in his eyes.
“Oh…” Multi said. “Oh, that is rich. No, of course you didn’t notice that he wasn’t around. Wind Runner, truly, you are just too much. I’m sure, Tapestry, that I must be mistaken, then.”
Tapestry didn’t say anything. Malcolm couldn’t take being on the outside edge of the conversation any longer.
“Enough of this,” he said, gruffly. “I didn’t come here to listen to the two of you talk. I came to fight.”
CHAPTER 29
He’d barely gotten the last word out of his mouth when five gunshots rang out, each one sparking the ground inches from Malcolm, Tapestry, and Rose’s feet. Multi slowly shook his head on the screen, thumbing a cigarette into his mouth and furrowing his brow.
“You came here because I lured you here,” said Multi. “To fight? It would be pointless. You might be able to escape, but what of the others here? Could you get them all out before one of my copies gets a lucky shot?”
Malcolm scowled. He might be able to use his wind manipulation to deflect some of the bullets, but the darkness made that all the more difficult. He found himself wishing that he still had Danny’s power. Being able to use thermal imaging had been helpful, and he could have used it to see the Multis in the shadows.
Chaste Widow (Vanderbrook Champions Book 4) Page 14
