Hero Blues

by Michelle L. Levigne

  The darkness smiled, tasting strength and the tang of antagonism and irritation, sweetened with potential for destruction. The rich brew hovered on the hair-fine balance between creation and destruction. All it needed was a shove in the right direction.

  Or, depending on the perspective, the wrong direction.

  * * * *

  "Do you need a ride home?" Jane asked, as the soft twilight of an unusually warm day shifted into night.

  "No. Thanks." Penny's big eyes sparkled. "Evan's giving me a ride."

  "Evan?" She raised an eyebrow in a skeptical look. "Who is this Evan and why haven't I heard about him before?"

  "He's just a boy." She caught her breath and glanced out the front window of the spa as an electric green, low-slung sports car slid to a stop in front of the door.

  "Rich boy. Good taste in cars. And girlfriends. He's from around here?" Jane added, fishing for information.

  When she had been in the orphanage, town boys with their own cars had been bad news. To be fair, they were usually town boys from surrounding towns, but Neighborlee did have some bad apples who had to be taught a lesson. When Jane lived here, that meant Gladstones. Such rich boys considered the orphanage girls to be fair game. Even after a few had been caught and punished, proving that the nobodies in the orphanage did have people who cared and would protect them, there were still those who thought that children without parents—especially the girls—were put there to be their playthings.

  Looking at the boy with his sun-bleached brown hair in a tail that hung over his collar, his crimson leather jacket, four silver studs in one ear and hearing the music belching out in an acid stream from the hi-tech sound system, Jane knew nothing had changed. Except that maybe the sweetest, most wholesome girls were the targets now instead of the ones who could be mistaken for trailer trash. But what could she do?

  What did she know, anyway? She had only been in town for a few weeks. For all Jane knew, Evan could be a great guy, captain of the Chess Team, headed for an Ivy League school on full scholarship—or seminary, for all she knew. Looks were deceiving. Wasn't she evidence of that, after all?

  "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Jane muttered, as Penny waved at Evan and stepped behind the counter to pick up her purse.

  "Is that supposed to be permission, or a warning?" The Handyman halted in the open doorway. He glanced at Evan, then at Penny, and scowled as he watched the girl dash for the car. "You're letting her go out with that kid?"

  "All I can do is offer advice, and since I don't know the boy, I'm not going to make the mistake of judging by appearances. If Angela sent her to me, I'm willing to bet Penny has more common sense than most girls her age. Am I right?"

  "Yeah, most of the time." He glanced over his shoulder as the car sped past the door. "Still..."

  "Are you here for a manicure, facial mask, or how about a massage? How about some hot stone therapy?" She bared her teeth in a poisonously sweet smile.

  Angela swept into the spa before Kurt could do more than glare at her.

  Jane froze, stunned to realize her protective field hadn't even reacted to Angela's presence, much less kept her out. Did that mean Angela didn't have a Gift?

  No, she decided. Knowing what she knew about Angela, her memories of Divine's Emporium, her theories... It wasn't that Angela wasn't Gifted, but she was something else entirely. Stronger, more mystical and wise...and in old-time Gaming terms, a "Chaotic." Angela wasn't someone to antagonize, even for the right reasons.

  It wasn't a matter of trying to get Angela on her side, Jane knew with a crystalline flash of insight, but rather making sure she was on Angela's side.

  "Thank goodness you're still open," the woman said with her usual gracious, slow smile. "Can you match this shade?" She held up a nail polish bottle, with contents that swirled in something metallic and rainbow-hued.

  "Let me see what I have." Jane gladly turned away from the Handyman and went to her knees in front of the storage drawers.

  "Was that Penny leaving with Evan?" Angela said.

  "You know him?" She glanced up and scowled when she saw that Kurt had managed to come through the door, probably taking advantage of the momentary hole Angela had created. Then again, Jane hadn't really expected him to use the door in his next salvo, so she had left a weak point in the field at the doorway. That would be rectified as soon as he left.

  "He's just visiting, fortunately. For how long, well..." Angela hitched up one hip to lean on the stool in front of the counter and watched her search. "Some folks will be glad when that boy goes home."

  "Goes home?" Kurt asked. "He's not a college boy?"

  "His great-uncle lives on the border by Darbyville. Evan's not welcome at home. His stepmother thinks he's trying to blow up the house. His uncle offered to get him out of harm's or temptation's way, so he's been exiled to Neighborlee with his credit cards and car. I know a few parents who were relieved when he decided to ignore their daughters."

  "But how many worried when he went after Penny?" Jane muttered.

  "To tell you the truth, she's been a good influence on him."

  Kurt snorted, clearly expressing what he thought of that.

  "No, honestly." Angela sighed and her smile broadened when Jane stood up, holding out a bottle that matched the one she had brought in. "If you can order me a bottle every other month, I will be eternally grateful."

  "Sounds like you expect Jane to be here for the long haul," Kurt said.

  "She's put down roots." Angela turned to face him, a fierce light in her eyes Jane had never seen the woman bestow on anyone before. "This was her home when she lived at NCH—when you were there, when you stood up for her, as you've conveniently forgotten."

  "Angela, don't you— She—" Kurt let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a raspy kind of sigh. Or maybe steam escaping an engine before it reached the critical explosion point. He looked back and forth between Angela and Jane, and his mouth slowly gaped open in confusion, or maybe he couldn't quite figure out what to say.

  Chapter Eleven

  "You big doofus." Angela's scorn was clear, despite her superior smirk.

  Jane lost her breath and the tiles under her feet seemed to ripple for a moment, her sense of reality rocked by the certainty that she not only had Angela's approval, but her protection.

  "Heaven help the man who tries to take her away from the home she's made for herself," the woman continued. "Neighborlee needs her, just as much as she needs us. No, I don't want to hear your arguments—or your attempts to apologize for what I suspect is a large dose of caveman prejudice and stupidity. Just think about what I said."

  A serene smile replaced her fierce look so rapidly, Jane wondered if she had imagined the other expression. "You might just discover you're very glad she returned to Neighborlee. There are many things far worse that she could do than devote her life and her talents to our town. And not many things that would be better for you." She glanced at Jane and her eyes twinkled. "Especially in matters of the heart."

  Kurt stayed at his post in the doorway. Jane didn't look at him as she rang up Angela's purchase—she didn't want to look at him—but she thought he looked a little stunned.

  To be honest, she felt a little stunned. Where had that come from? Why had Angela said such things—and how long had it taken for her to figure out that the Handyman was tormenting Jane, testing her, maybe trying to drive her out of Neighborlee?

  Even more strange, why the comment about "matters of the heart"? While Jane acknowledged her hormonal leanings, that didn't mean she had to listen and let them control her decisions. The last thing she needed was to get involved with someone who reminded her of Otis. Just because he had such a strong, flexible Gift didn't make up for his decision that she was a threat to his town. Knowing that Reginald and Demetrius would be delighted to match her with Kurt to produce a second generation of Gifted made him seem rather...well, not repulsive, but definitely the opposite of attractive.

  "You make a good doorma
n," Angela said, as she turned to leave. "There are all sorts of doors in town that need guarding." She looked back over her shoulder at Jane and winked. "Think about it."

  "All of that should have scared you away," the Handyman muttered, when Angela was long gone. He gestured out the door after her. "Haven't you figured out yet, this is the weirdness capital of the United States—maybe the world?"

  "That's a matter of opinion," Jane said. "You've never seen the place where I grew up, the people who raised me. There are at least three of you, and Angela is your ringleader. Neighborlee isn't that unique."

  "Baby, you've barely scratched the surface." His smirk returned, but at half the wattage. "What can I do to convince you that I'm not such a bad guy after all?"

  "Get yourself run over by a freight train?" Jane flicked her fingers at the door. The latch turned and it swung open, letting another cold gust inside. "We're closed for the night. Please go home."

  "Is that any way to treat a potential ally?" He stepped further into the shop instead of turning toward the door.

  "If you don't leave now, you won't be able to leave until morning." She swept around the room, turning off lights, unplugging cords, pulling shades down over the windows, turning the potted plants so the sun would hit another side in the morning. Her nightly routine took the same amount of time as it always did, but felt like it took three times as long, with him watching. She could actually feel the weight of his gaze on her. It made her skin prickle.

  "Just a prisoner...of the heart." He snorted, sounding suspiciously like laughter. "That's a good trick, the protective shield you've been holding up. Got to teach me that one."

  "No, I don't think so. Just because Angela has declared a truce doesn't mean I'd trust you with any more of my secrets than you've picked up already. Out." She pointed at the door.

  "How about inviting me upstairs for dinner, and we can talk this out?"

  "How about you go back to whatever rock you live under, and I'll go for a long walk to cool off before I do something really...vicious?" Jane bit her tongue and felt her face heat. She had almost said "stupid."

  "We will have to talk. Eventually. Why not do it like two civilized, rational human beings, in comfort, rather than beat up and on our knees in front of Angela, with her scolding us like a couple of snot-nosed brats?"

  "My, that's an ugly picture. Do you always end up in front of Angela like that?" Jane hid her sigh of relief when he took several slow, backwards steps toward the door. "Besides, who says we're human beings?"

  "Good point. Birds of a feather really should stick together, sweetheart." He continued moving, still facing her, until he was up the doorstep and over the threshold.

  "Not on your life," she muttered, and flicked her fingers so the door slammed and locked. A flash of green-silver sparkles filled her vision for a moment as the protective field solidified inside the spa. If she wanted, nothing could get into the spa while she was away. Even air, if necessary.

  Jane wouldn't do that to her innocent plants. She satisfied herself with floating up through the ceiling and the next level and into her apartment. It wasn't enough satisfaction, though. Nothing appealed to her for dinner, so she settled for a fresh bag of microwave popcorn and a movie marathon. Problem was, she couldn't decide on a series of movies to watch. Usually when she was feeling sorry for herself in some aspect of her Gift and feeling like a freak, she could usually find some relaxation in watching any of the Marvel movies. Not tonight, though.

  Next she dug through her DVD series collection and settled on "Man from U.N.C.L.E.," but lost interest halfway through the second episode. She found an "NCIS" marathon on cable—maybe she should just watch everything featuring David McCallum? Ziva was gone and Tony was more irritating than usual and she really wanted to head-slap Gibbs. Two-thirds of the way through the episode, she couldn't take any more. After flipping twice through the on-screen guide, she closed her eyes and stumbled across the room to her DVD shelves. Her hand landed on the first season of "Roswell," and she almost tried again, but the rules were rules. When she let random chance dictate what she watched, she had to sit through at least one episode. By the time she got to the end of the pilot episode, she was snarling at Max and all the high school-age twits. They had no idea what teenage-alien-in-another-world angst meant. As soon as the closing music started, Jane knew what she needed—fresh air. She grabbed coat and a blanket to sit on, and flew up through the roof.

  The night air was almost balmy, compared to the crystallizing air and high winds that had ripped between the buildings the last few days. There was almost a scent, like the promise of spring, though that was still months away. It made Jane think of the most delicate toilet water, in a very expensive, exclusive spa she had visited. That shop had been her inspiration for going into business. Right now, she was heading for the abandoned quarries on the north side of town for some quiet, and room to breathe and think. While it might be the perfect trysting place in the summer, she couldn't imagine anyone coming here for privacy and thinking room and quiet in the winter. Which meant it was perfect for her, now.

  Unfortunately, someone else had the same idea. Jane gritted her teeth when she heard the sound of voices just moments after she had found a comfortable spot to sit and look out at the moonlight on the ice-rimmed water. She knew she had been too preoccupied with her private griping about the Handyman, and hadn't adequately scouted the area before settling down.

  Then again, she shouldn't need to scout out the territory like someone preparing an attack. Neighborlee was her town, not her patrol territory. It wasn't like her to be so oblivious.

  Jane sighed, started to get to her feet, and caught a flash of electric green, then the distinctive slam of a car door. Gut instinct told her Evan and Penny had come here to the quarry on their way back to the orphanage. She remembered what Angela had said—and hinted—when she stopped in at the spa.

  Jane didn't care if she was retired or not. Right at this moment, gut instinct told her Penny was in trouble, or on the edge of it. She didn't have to be a superhero to know that.

  Her hearing sharpened, tightening and tuning in like someone else would adjust the gain on a spy microphone.

  "What is your problem?"

  Jane smiled, recognizing the distinctive sound of a rich young snot in full sulk. She silently congratulated Penny on standing strong against her boyfriend's blandishments. Just as silently, Jane shifted to full Ghost phase and rose up in the air. If Penny needed some help, she would find it close at hand.

  "You know the rules," Penny said. She slid out of her side of the car, putting it between her and the erstwhile Romeo who brought her here.

  "Good girl," Jane whispered. More problems were caused when the girl stayed within reach of the boy who wanted more than she was willing to give. It didn't matter how often she said no, the fact that she stayed in the car would have some doubting her word against Evan's.

  Not that Jane would let Evan lay a hand on Penny. While getting out of the car made her vulnerable, especially this far out of town, it was preferable to the vulnerability that came with staying in the car. Evan could use the electric locks. He could drive fast, taking dangerous turns, frightening her into complying. Hitting the car horn this far from town wouldn't do Penny that much good, and what could she do if she got the keys away from him? They weren't much good for defense, because using them to claw at her attacker would put her within his reach. Throwing the keys into the water wouldn't do her much good, even if they might give some emotional satisfaction.

  Jane sighed. The smartest thing Penny could do to defend herself was the one thing she hadn't done. Avoid Evan.

  "Yeah, I know the rules," Evan finally said after another long, loud sigh. In guy speak, it meant, "Can't you see how reasonable and patient I am? Give up and give in." Another sigh, turning into a definite whine. Jane labeled him a major league spoiled brat. "But my folks are letting me transfer in, not just stay until things cool down at home. We should celebrate, you k
now? I thought we could make it special," he said, his voice changing to a wheedling whine.

  "Special for you," Penny said. "I'll be grounded for the rest of the school year. And what if I got pregnant?"

  "Aw, come on, honey, I'd use a condom."

  "Condoms break, and there are a lot of diseases that are smaller than the pores in the rubber. Stopping AIDS with a condom is like trying to catch a golf ball with a volleyball net."

  "You sound like a freaking science lecture," he snarled.

  "And you aren't insulted that I'm afraid of catching some disgusting disease from you," she shot back.

  "Good girl. Just yank all the romance wind out of his sails," Jane said, nodding.

  "I can't believe I wasted so much time on you."

  The next sound to fill the quarry was the rumble of the engine cranking into angry life. Jane smiled and pumped her fist, signaling a score for Penny. She knew the girl was a smart one the moment she met her. It felt more glorious than she could have anticipated, to have her faith in someone pay out in gold for a change.

  "Yeah, you could have been spending your money on beer and hookers instead of pretending to be Mr. All-American. Take me home right now, Evan."

  "Think again. This taxi just stopped running."

  Penny squealed as Evan leaned over, across the car, and reached for the door handle to pull it closed. Jane arched up into the air, ready to dive down—and saw something flash gold and white and hit the car with a thud like a small atomic blast.

  Evan shouted, sounding like Chekov in a classic Trek episode. The car leaped up on its rear wheels like an angry stallion.

  Penny screamed. Something white and gold wrapped around her and yanked her out of the way.

  A second later, the car slammed back down onto all four tires and careened up the slope toward the edge of the quarry cliff. Everything happened in the space of two heartbeats, so quickly Jane barely had time to blink and realized what had happened.

  "You get the girl. I'll get the car," Kurt bellowed from behind Jane. He swooped past her, arms outstretched, racing the sports car.