by H. D. Gordon
I sighed, nodded. “All right,” I said, seeing no way to argue with that. “Let’s go.” I pointed to a window on the third story of the building. “That’s her office. We can wait for her there.”
Remy grinned and spread his arms for me to step into them. Once I had, he flew us up to Rosemary’s window and we climbed inside.
“She leaves the window unlocked for you,” Remy commented. “That’s sweet.”
Thirty minutes later, Rosemary found us, placing a hand over her heart and releasing a heavy sigh when she realized the intruders in her office were just me and another more famous superhero. With the large hood that Remy had pulled over his head, it was easy to recognize him.
Dr. Reid’s shiny blond hair was curled neatly over her shoulders, her lovely face clear of makeup and her stunning hazel eyes a direct reminder of the brother who shared the shade. She looked between Remy and me, taking in the wound on my shoulder.
“You were shot,” said Dr. Reid. “And, apparently, you know the Night Rider. Am I missing anything?”
I could feel a thin sheen of sweat covering my face, my stomach queasy with the loss of blood. “Right on target, doc,” I said, the words taking real effort.
Rosemary sighed. “All right, take off that shirt and let’s get you patched up.” She left to retrieve some supplies, and Remy turned toward me.
“Are all your friends beautiful?” he asked.
My head tilted as I leaned back on the chair in front of Rosemary’s desk. “Now that I think about it, pretty much.”
Rosemary returned a moment later. She gave me a shot of something that sent a stream of cold through my veins and numbed my shoulder. Then she set to work at removing the lead still lodged in my shoulder and sewing up the hole.
When she was done, I asked Remy to wait outside while I thanked her. He did as I asked, and I turned back to face the doc. “He’s just a friend,” I said.
Rosemary gave me a little smile, one of her fine brows lifting. “I didn’t ask,” she said.
“Yeah, but part of me being a Fae Halfling means I can see auras, and yours is all kinds of questioning right now.”
“Hmm,” Rosemary said. “So you can see what people are feeling all the time?”
I nodded. “And then some.”
She studied me a moment. Then, she said, “I believe you. It’s just… Thomas doesn’t really get close to people, but he seems to be getting close to you.” She shrugged. “I worry about him.”
“I would never hurt him,” I told her, the words coming true and easy.
Her smile faded a notch, though there was sympathy and wisdom behind her eyes.
“Again, I believe you,” she said. “Thing is, sometimes we end up doing things we never intended to do. They happen anyway and, intentions aside, the result is the same… You know what I mean?”
I swallowed, nodded, and thanked her again. I did know. In fact, it was a lesson that would be drilled home to me on several fronts and occasions in the very near future.
CHAPTER 8
Heading back into Grant City after spending three days at the beach house in Seaside felt like returning to another world. The city was busy and smelled of exhaust and a large concentration of humans. The sounds of crying gulls and crashing waves were replaced with car horns and sirens, shouts from strangers and the rumbling of tires over concrete.
As I sat in the back seat of Matt’s old Oldsmobile and took it all in, I understood that despite these things, Grant City had become my home, my personal preferences having played little role in the matter. On top of that, I was eager to settle back into my routine, and I wished Thomas were not away so that I could share the happenings of the past three days with him. It was admittedly disconcerting how I’d come to depend on his company.
When Matt, Sam, and Raven dropped me off at my apartment, however, it was not Thomas Reid waiting for me, but rather, Caleb Cross.
I hesitated with my hand on the car door, biting my lip while I came to the disappointing conclusion that telling Matt to just step on the gas despite Caleb clearly watching us was not an option. Sighing, I told my friends goodbye, hoisted my backpack on my shoulders, and went to greet my guest.
Matt’s car idled at the curb for a moment, but when I shot him a look, I got a sheepish smile and wave from Sam, and the car pulled away.
I turned back to Caleb. “Hey,” I said, because it was all I could come up with.
“Hey,” Caleb replied. His hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his expensive slacks, his chestnut hair styled up to messy perfection. I missed the twinkle that came into this blue eyes whenever he looked at me, but found that there was no way to admit this without baring too much of myself.
We stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment before I remembered my manners. I unlocked the front door to the apartment building and looked back at him. “You want to come up?”
Caleb nodded and followed me up the four flights of stairs. I couldn’t help but glance at Thomas’s door when we reached the landing, and Caleb’s aura told me this did not go unnoticed. Once we were inside my apartment and I’d offered him some tea—which he declined—we took seats in the two wooden chairs over by the single window.
“How have you been?” I asked, no longer able to stand the silence.
Caleb sighed, and as he did so, I watched the flux and variation of his aura. Aside from his handsome façade, his wealth, and his genuine kindness, I think it was his aura that had caused my feelings for Caleb Cross to grow. He was so conflicted, always wanting to do the right thing while trying to remain loyal to those he loved, and because of his circumstances, those two things often opposed each other. These thoughts made a fresh wave of guilt wash over me, remembering the whole reason things were weird between us in the first place.
I’d reported his father’s corporation to the Peace Brokers without his knowledge, and I’d done this after he’d agreed to help me infiltrate Cross Corp. In the past month I’d told myself several times that the sight of all those Halfling children in that underground laboratory I’d stumbled upon with Thomas was the justification for my actions, but as I sat here now, in my salvaged wooden chair staring out at the brick view my window offered, across from the boy who’d been so kind to me, I knew I’d been wrong to betray him, and the reasons didn’t matter. Simple as that. I’d been wrong.
“I’ve been okay,” Caleb answered, though my racing mind had forgotten I’d even asked a question. “How about you?” His aura showed genuine interest in the state of my wellbeing, and not for the first time in my life, I wished I could just turn this particular Halfling ability off.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and felt my throat going tight. I refused to cry. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t deserve to cry.
The dimple in his right cheek appeared as he gave me a half smile I also didn’t deserve.
“Yeah, me too,” he said, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Look, I came here to tell you not to go to that parade tomorrow night, the one they’re holding for the Masked Maiden.”
I sat in silence for several seconds as I absorbed this. Of all the times in the past month that I’d had this conversation in my head, it hadn’t gone like this. I understood that he was warning me, and his aura told me that he was doing so for no other reason than because he cared about me, but somehow, this seemed highly unimportant.
“I betrayed you and I’m so sorry,” I said, because it was all I could manage. “I shouldn’t have followed you and your brother out to that farm, and I should’ve told you that I wanted to report to the Brokers. I’ve had lots of time to think about it and I was wrong. I had no right.”
Caleb’s aura twisted and turned, swirled and stormed, my words both hard to hear and heart-breaking. I tried to snap my mouth shut and be done, but once you tip the bowl of your soul, it was impossible to stop the contents from pouring out.
“I’ve missed you,” I said. “You were kind to me from the moment we met. You’ve kept my secrets and withheld ju
dgment, and I can never repay you for that. I can only say that I’m sorry.”
Silence held, my words hanging heavy in the air between us. I wanted to pull my gaze from the deep blue of his, to turn away and try to conceal whatever was left of my heart. Instead, I watched his aura. There was so much he wanted to say, and I could see he even wanted to forgive me, but the pain I’d caused him wouldn’t allow it. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps not ever.
Caleb cleared his throat and stood, smoothing his hands down his slacks. “Just…promise me you won’t go to the parade tomorrow,” he said.
Heart sinking, I swallowed hard and tried to recover from his brush-off. “Why? What’s going to happen at the parade tomorrow?”
Caleb was already moving toward the door, crossing the small space that was my apartment and showing himself out. He turned back before leaving, and in his aura I could see that he still loved me, even though he no longer wanted to.
“Aria… just listen, for once,” he said, his voice hardly a whisper. “Don’t go tomorrow. I know the parade is to thank her, but not everyone in Grant City thinks the Masked Maiden is a hero.”
With those harshly true words, he shut the door behind him, leaving me to stare at the space he’d vacated as if a ghost had just appeared there.
***
“He threatened you?” Sam asked, instantly indignant on my behalf.
“No, he warned me,” I said. “Caleb would never threaten me.” As I said this, my shoulders slumped and I shoved some sticky bun into my mouth.
Sam glanced around The Grind, which was flowing with people looking for their morning coffee fix. She kept her voice low. “You’re still punishing yourself over him, aren’t you?”
I took a scalding gulp of my hot chocolate. “Yeah, well, I did a crappy thing.”
Sam snorted. “Things were not black and white, okay? You made a tough choice. You were trying to help people, and we both know Caleb’s father is behind some of this stuff, even if he doesn’t want to see it.”
I ran a hand down my face, pushing away the depression that always waited to descend.
“Still,” I said. “Caleb was my friend, and I did him wrong.”
Sam let out an exasperated sigh. “Maybe this self-punishment is part of the job description. It’s that way in the comics.”
“This isn’t a comic book, Sam, and I hurt him pretty bad.” My words came out more clipped and harsh than intended, and I groaned and sat back in my chair. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m on edge.”
True to her nature, Sam understood. “You got shot two days ago, so you get a pass.” She sipped at her latte. “Does that mean we’re not attending the parade?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Caleb sounded pretty serious, but if there’s going to be danger, isn’t that even more reason for the Maiden to show up?”
Sam considered this. “Why be so vague? If he really wanted to look out for you, why didn’t he just say there’s going to be a bomb on Ninth and Ward or something like that?” Sam tapped at her chin with a finger. “Unless he doesn’t know details… It’s just strange. What does he know that he’s not telling us?”
I tore at the edge of my napkin. “I’m pretty sure I burned any bridges I had with him, so I have no idea.”
“So… Does that mean we’re going, or not?” Sam asked
I chewed this over, but before I could answer, Matt returned from the restroom and claimed the seat beside me, grinning over his coffee. “Why don’t you just go as Aria Fae and keep your suit nearby just in case?”
Sam nodded. “That’s a good idea. We’ll have everything on standby, just in case… I mean if something is going to happen, I know you well enough to know you want to be there, right?”
Normally, Sam would have been right on target, and because I was too embarrassed to contest, I nodded my head and plastered a weak grin over my lips.
“Right,” I said. Because why wouldn’t I want to run headfirst toward the fire? After all, I always had in the past, and now seemed like a terribly inappropriate time to admit I was becoming afraid of the flames.
***
Red and blue flashed, the lights bouncing off the buildings and storefronts and reflecting back into the dark night. Drums sounded from somewhere down the line, and trumpets blared in orchestrated synchronicity.
Floats of various creations made their lazy way down the blocked off city streets, the riders atop tossing out candy for the children and key chains for the adults in attendance. Fire trucks with fully dressed fireman hanging out of the windows were part of the procession, and at intervals the driver would honk the truck’s loud horn and get squeals of delight from the gathered little ones.
I sighted a tootsie roll some unfortunate child had overlooked and scooped it up from the sidewalk, tearing off the wrapper and popping it in my mouth.
Around the delicious chocolaty chew, I grinned at my companions. “I’ve never been to a parade before,” I told them.
Sam’s return smile nearly kissed her earlobes. Her eyes widened and she pointed over my shoulder. “Aria, look at that float!”
I turned and followed the line of sight she directed, taking in the float she’d been referring to. I stared at it in wonder, my eyes roaming over the details, my heart swelling a bit in spite of itself. The float was painted mostly midnight blue and black with accents of silver and white, and the structure atop it was a cardboard rendering of Grant City’s skyline, complete with the tall Commerce Building and the unmistakable cube structure that was the Cross Corp Building. The artist had even taken pains to include the Bay Bridge (where my battle with the Blue Beast had gone down) and a backdrop of moon and stars behind it.
Despite this beautiful depiction of the city I’d come to love, this was not the part of the float that drew my attention. Rather, it was the young woman dressed in a full-on Masked Maiden costume, standing with her hands proudly fisted at her hips, chest thrust out like a superhero right out of a comic book.
What held my attention was the crowd’s reaction to the Maiden. They waved and smiled, hollered out professions of love and thank you’s. The actor atop the float waved nobly back at them, accepting the praise with all the grace of royalty.
“They love her,” Sam whispered in my ear, giving me a little nudge with her shoulder and staring on with a look of awe that I was sure my expression matched.
With this, Caleb’s words came back to me, his warning the day before pulling me out of the moment. Not everyone in Grant City thinks the Masked Maiden is a hero, he’d told me.
But from where I was standing at the moment, it sure seemed like they did. The energy flowing from the crowd was high-spirited, the collective auras at peace in their momentary jubilations. The progression of the parade continued, the woman in the suit and mask offering me a hearty thumbs-up and a white-toothed smile as the float she rode eased past.
At the same moment, a bright flash of lightning ripped through the dark sky, brightening the world for a solid second. This flash was followed by another…and another, the jagged lines of the lightning branding themselves behind my eyelids so they remained there while I blinked.
Unease rippled through the crowd that edged the shutdown street, not something spoken or muttered, but rather a shift in the energy of the gathered. My head tilted as I studied the heavens, noting that there was not a single cloud in the sky even as another bolt broke amongst the stars, like a crack in an ebony egg.
Sam, Matt, and I exchanged looks, unspoken concerns passing between us. There wasn’t much else to be done, so we followed the flow of the crowd toward the city square, where Mayor Barbara Briggs was slated to speak in conclusion of the parade.
As I watched the citizens of Grant City bottleneck into the area, gathering close so as to get a look at the podium, a knot slowly tied in the pit of my stomach.
I held my breath as the mayor took to the podium. I hoped she didn’t put too much time into her speech, because she barely got two paragraphs out before every light in
Grant City went out, the charge of invisible electricity drying up like a creek bed in summer, casting everyone within the concrete walls into a prison of utter darkness.
CHAPTER 9
“Hello Grant City!” Mayor Briggs had begun, offering a megawatt smile that had surely played a hand in her being elected.
In response, the crowd offered cheers and claps, my own hands following suit out of pure habit, despite the fact that every hair was standing up on my head. I should’ve known better than to hope that Caleb Cross had give me misinformation. Something was going to go down. I just had no idea what.
“Thank you all for coming,” continued the mayor. “I know this great city of ours has seen its fair share of troubles this past year, but as I look out at all of you now, it is hope that fills me at the prospect of our future.”
Funny, I thought. It’s the opposite that’s filling me.
“We’ve seen some things that have changed the way we look at our world,” Mayor Briggs said, chin held high and face earnest. “Heroes and villains alike have stepped out of the woodworks and put to test our strength and faith in each other. We’ve gathered today to celebrate and offer thanks to a particular individual who put her life on the line to save those who needed saving.”
She paused for dramatic effect.
“For the past six months my office has been getting letters and calls from constituents telling stories about how the Masked Maiden helped them out of some sort of trouble. This masked vigilante has run into burning buildings, stopped armed robberies, kidnappings, and just recently, saved hundreds lives on the Bay Bridge by taking down the Blue Beast—an event I still don’t have an explanation for.”
Another pause. “So, what I think today’s celebration is really about is showing our appreciation,” added the mayor. “Masked Maiden, if you’re out there watching, on behalf of Grant City, tha—”
