Someone had caused the earthquake, likely in an attempt to kidnap Francesca. But there had been no follow-up, no one springing on stage to whisk her away. Had my presence deterred them so that they sank back in the shadows? Or had someone else intervened?
I frowned, looking at the damage we left behind us. Whoever had caused the attack had power, certainly to be in the far upper range—a Quaker bringing down a house would be no surprise, but an entire theater constructed of stone would be far more difficult. The damaged restaurants and plaza combined with the burst pipes spilling water onto the street only added to my concerns, and those weren’t even in the central radius. This was a demonstration of raw power—not a surgical incision of intensity, but a flat out punch that left the block reeling. Yet somehow, someone had stopped it right in its tracks. And I doubted it was me.
Francesca rolled up her window once we escaped the throng, closing her eyes momentarily as she pressed back against the headrest. Her hand met mine on the middle seat, and instinctively, I pulled back, but her eyes shot open as she reached for it again.
“SC, you came back because you wanted to be with me, right?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
“You almost just died,” I replied, her grip over my hand making me squirm. Again, I mentally cursed Lucio for his deviations from the plan, his improvisation of this situation. “Do you have any idea what that was about back there?”
“Probably an estranged fan,” she replied, shrugging. “There are plenty of the crazies that follow us around. Nothing to be too concerned about, I would think. And wonderful for the press. I wouldn’t be concerned, SC. It’s just show business.”
“The press?” I asked, incredulous. “An entire theater was just destroyed back there! Leveled!”
“And it will be mended within the year,” she said, waving a hand. “But I’ll be on the front page tomorrow. There will be interviews, and more bookings, and sales will explode. Nothing sells quite like near death. Except, well, actual death.”
I blinked, staring as the driver peered at us through the rear view mirror. To her, this had been little more than a photo opportunity. A chance to increase fame.
“Don’t be worried,” Francesca said, squeezing my hand. “These things happen all the time. It’s part of the business! Just last month, someone tried to teleport me on vacation with them! I’m sure the police will find the culprit and it will be settled.”
“Francesca, something like this could have gone terribly wrong,” I said, and she threw back her head in a laugh.
“SC, that’s life! Life can go terribly wrong! Every step we take, we take at our own peril. That’s why we employ people like Joshi, isn’t that right?”
The driver took another look back at us and nodded, speaking with a heavy Italian accent.
“I drive the Francesca,” he said, tapping the wheel. “And I guard the Francesca. Safe with me.” He raised his hand, and fire leapt into his palm, a white jet that extended nearly a foot into the air and would have seared through the roof if we had not been in a convertible. He smiled, letting his gaze linger on me for a moment rather pointedly before focusing back on the road.
“But this isn’t the SC I remember,” she said, batting her eyelashes as she looked back at me, trailing a finger across my jaw. “The one I remember is adventurous. Daring. What about the time you saved me from those alligators? Where is that SC now? You were so brave.”
“Of course,” I said, smiling as I clenched a fist behind my back, a punch meant for Lucio. “I did just save you again, didn’t I?”
“My prince charming.” She laughed just as Joshi pulled up in front of a skyscraper then exited to hold open the door. We stepped outside, and Francesca led me to the entrance, where a doorman bowed to her and allowed us in.
“There’s my girl!” said the security guard behind the counter, beaming as we entered. Behind him, a television flickered as a chopper circled the still smoking theater. “You had me worried! And this—this is the one that pulled you out of the rubble? My, Francesca, how come you never introduced me?”
“Rachel,” said Francesca with a smile, addressing the woman who looked to be nearing her fifties. She was smaller than I would expect for a guard, but stout, carrying a baton and pepper spray at her hip. “We wanted to keep it a secret. You know how the business can be.”
The guard nodded, and she looked me over, my skin pricking. For a moment, I thought my nerves were hyperactive, but then I realized that it wasn’t psychological—where she looked, goosebumps flooded over me, and it felt as if small needles were rubbing against my pores.
“Well, he has good intentions,” said Rachel, and she nodded down the hall to where another guard waited near a bank of elevators. “I just checked him out. Far better than the last one, Francesca. He never looked right.”
“Now I know.” Francesca sighed. “But the heart has to find out for itself. SC, Rachel is a family friend going back years—she used to be on my father’s security team before she transferred over to me. Oh, and she’s a Emotireader, so we’ll have to save the flirting for upstairs.”
“You’re a what?” I asked, the word unfamiliar to me.
“Emotireader,” Rachel repeated. “Not very common on your side of the ocean, but here, the passions run deeper. I can see your feelings, your intentions. Some conscious, others not—from the itch behind your right ear right now that your arm wants to scratch, to what I sense is protection for Francesca. After the events of today, that’s reassuring.”
“I want the best for her,” I said, nodding towards the television.
“We all do!” Rachel said. “We keep a tight ship here. Now I won’t be keeping you two any longer, but curfew is in one hour. Don’t make me come up there!”
“Please, Rachel.” Francesca laughed and took my hand once more. “You’re embarrassing us!”
She pulled me to the elevator, where the next guard waited, a massive man who pushed the up button with an oversized thumb. The elevator rang, and we climbed inside as he escorted us upwards.
“Eddie,” said Francesca, placing a hand on his shoulder, and he grunted. “Until further notice, SC has full elevator privileges. Let the day shift know too.” Then she turned to me as we started to rise. “Eddie is the only way up or down. He’s a Binary, so he can talk directly with the security system here. If you ever need to come see me, you’ll have to talk to him first.”
“A Binary,” I asked him. “So you talk to computers?”
In response, he grunted, and Francesca interjected, “Computers, yes. Simple ones, at least. People, not so much. And there are other guards around the lobby, but Rachel and Eddie are the only ones you need to know.”
The elevator doors opened, revealing the apartment beyond.
Chapter 30
When Eddie opened the elevator, it revealed an entire story of the skyscraper, all reserved as a single apartment. Shining wood floors led to a kitchen outfitted with stainless steel appliances, surrounded by granite countertops and a high ceiling that made the enclosure feel like a home, not an entire floor. Polished concrete formed the walls and life-sized art occupied them, a mix of canvased abstracts bearing neon colors and photos of Francesca herself. The space was designed to be modern, maximizing its perceived size, and the effect would have been breathtaking, had it not been for the boxes scattered throughout.
Stacks formed brown columns that we dodged as we entered, marker labels indicating the contents of each, with packing paper strewn in heaps around them. Empties gathered in the corners, half of them broken down flat, the other half strewn in haphazard mounds. I chewed the side of my lip as I inspected them, the disorganized array forming perfect hiding spots for anyone who might have entered Francesca’s room to wait for her. But the security downstairs had seemed tight, and I spotted the red blinking light of a camera in the corner of the room, which flicked on as soon as we entered.
“Ugh, they were supposed to have finished unpacking today. And they didn’t even
do my luggage. Our vacation from Sardinia was three weeks ago,” she said, kicking one of the empties out of the way and leading me to a couch. Plastic wrapping still covered the leather from the move, and it crinkled as we sat. Ahead of us was an entertainment station with a television still in the box on the floor, leaving a window into the city skyline beyond as the view. Looking out into the twinkling lights, I preferred it to a screen. “Also, this floor is pretty nice, but not the one I wanted. There’s still five floors above me, but the tenants weren’t willing to move. I wanted the top one.”
“Pretty nice?” I said, looking around, the sheer size of the expanse too much for me. “It’s amazing. Do you have this all to yourself?”
“All for me!” she said, and slipped off her heels, rubbing at her ankles. “When I’m not staying at Father’s, of course, but lately, I’ve been trying to keep out of there. He has his moods. That’s why I moved here.”
“His moods?” I asked. “What do you mean by that?”
“Just like today, for instance. I’m sure he’ll pitch a fit over it, how something could have happened, and I’ll have to calm him down. It’s a real ordeal, but he doesn’t realize that I have everything under control.”
“I’m sure he’s just stressed about you,” I suggested, and she sighed.
“Well, he’s certainly stressed,” she said, and moved closer to me on the couch. “But I am too, and no one seems to care about that. It’s one of the reasons I’m happy you’re back. I know you care. There’s a lot I have to deal with that no one understands. They think it’s easy to be me.”
Her pupils dilated in the dim apartment light, accented by the rows of streetlamps that reflected off them from the window. I felt the urge to look out of it, to see if there was a flying figure watching us from the darkness. Instead, I matched her gaze, the muscles in my back tightening as they itched to back away, and I pushed it aside.
“I think we should write another song,” she said, letting her hand trail through my hair. “One just about the two of us. What do you think about that?”
“Of course!” I said, jumping up from the couch a little too eagerly. “There’s got to be a pen and paper in one of these boxes somewhere!”
“Oh, we’re not ready for that yet. Here, the guitar is in my room. Fetch it and let’s try to put together some chords.”
“Sure,” I said, taking the moment to explore her apartment. One hour curfew, Rachel had said, but already I was starting to feel pinned in by Francesca. Lucio had been sure to lace the memories with emotion, and while they worked perfectly for bringing me close to her, a single disturbance could cause them to shatter. A disturbance such as turning away her affection.
There were four rooms in the apartment besides the kitchen and living area—one held workout equipment, another was a small recording studio for practice, the third was a guest bedroom, and the fourth Francesca’s own. I found the guitar leaning against her bed, an acoustic with a blue shoulder strap, and brought it back to the couch, handing it off to her.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” she teased as I held it out by the neck.
“Trying to write a song?” I guessed, unsure at what she was suggesting.
“Oh, you’re so cute when you play dumb!” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You play it, not me! We both know you’re better!”
“I—erm,” I stopped, my hand clasped around the neck of the guitar, an instrument I’d never tried in my life. Part of me considered falling over and smashing it on the ground, breaking the neck in what would be an incredibly obvious accident. Or I could act like my hand was hurt from saving her earlier, but nothing seemed wrong with it from the exterior, and I had just carried the guitar without any complaints. So instead, I sat on the couch, taking the pick in my hand in what seemed like the right position, and started to pluck a string, just as I generated a force point behind me.
It didn’t have to be much—all I needed was a slight pull several feet up in the air, just enough to destabilize the already leaning tower of boxes in the center of the room. As a single test note from the guitar vibrated, they crashed to the ground, and I heard objects cracking within along with what sounded like dinnerware shattering. Francesca leapt up at the noise, nearly bolting across the room, then raising her hands to her mouth as the saw the damage.
“My things!” she shouted, and rushed over to the spillage. “Some of these are irreplaceable!”
For the next half hour, I adopted a morose face as we took stock of the damage to the collection that had spewed out. There were Francesca dolls and Francesca posters, and even Francesca snow globes. A quarter of the items had sustained damage, and tears leapt into her eyes when she saw the Francesca Tour Limited Edition mug’s handle had broken off. Apparently, only two hundred had been made, and they’d sold out on the first day.
By the time we’d finished, it was time for me to leave, and I edged towards the elevator.
“Eddie will be a moment,” she said as she approached me, putting her hands on my hips.
“I can always take the stairs,” I said, looking around for another door.
“Elevator is the only way in or out. We removed the stair door. It just didn’t fit with the rest of the room. Don’t tell the fire marshal, okay? It’s not exactly legal, but you know, keeps the crazies out.” She winked and pulled me closer, just as the elevator door started to open. She leaned in, and I embraced her, turning my head to let her kiss me on the cheek. Then I backed inside, forcing myself not to dash as her eyes watched me from the room.
“Nighty night, SC,” she sang, and suddenly, I felt an urge of attraction, a pull towards her. “Unless you want to stay here.” She had a guest room, after all, and it was for her protection. I could stay. Surely Arial wouldn’t be angry. It was for the job. It was—It was the words of a Silver Tongue, words that Francesca had imbued with power.
I shook my head, seeing her look of disappointment layered with suspicion as Eddie held the elevator door open.
“Next time!” I promised. “I still have to fetch my things. They’re still at the airport, and if I don’t get them tonight, who knows what will happen to them.”
“Then you should come to my choir practice round tomorrow. I’ll see you there instead. Just before lunch. Don’t be late. Meet me here!”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said, and the words were no lie. While I couldn’t stay, Francesca was still in danger. And I needed to watch over her at every chance that I could.
Chapter 31
The trek to the colosseum consisted of several miles, and I wandered the streets alone, striking off in the general direction. Around me, churches surged skywards, their sheer size and opulence daunting. Gargoyles stared down upon me as I passed, their hard expressions judgmental, their shapes as dark as the night itself. Restaurants closed up as I passed, and fortunately more people than I expected knew English when I asked for help—but even if they only spoke Italian, stating the word coliseum was enough to get me a point in the right direction.
It was strange, walking in a city so ancient and yet so young—the streets clogged with gas scooters and cars, yet the buildings far older than either of those technologies. I wondered if it might eventually be outgrown, if the aging infrastructure would one day be unable to keep up with humanity. If the electrical lines and piping tacked onto the stone would one day be replaced by something so different that they would have to start over entirely. And looking up towards the stars that were barely visible beyond the streetlamps, where my abilities originated, I wondered if the way we treated powers would change in the same way. Would society collapse then sprout anew, or simply change, morph?
According to Siri and Lacit, a full burn was the only way to remedy its problems. But I didn’t think so—so much would be lost, so much that was irreplaceable. If they had their way, anyone without strong powers would be eliminated, entire lives and cultures wiped away in steps towards human perfection. And even if their plan were to succee
d, who were we to decide what was strong and what was weak, or what qualities were to remain?
With each step, I walked deeper in my thoughts, so absorbed that I almost didn’t notice the footsteps behind me. They were well hidden, quiet enough that most would have ignored them—but after spending the last few months sneaking around, I’d come to recognize the telltale signs of someone who did not want to be noticed. How the steps came in spurts as they darted from hiding place to hiding place, always sounding faster than my own but never catching me. Or how when a scooter pulled around behind me and the headlight cast my long shadow against down the street, another appeared at my side. One whose origin, by the time I turned around, had disappeared into the darkness.
I smiled —if Francesca’s security was following me, it was a good sign. We were here to protect her, but the more aid we had in that, the better. Already her apartment was practically a tower keep, insulated from above by several other floors, below by guards, and too high for easy entry from the sides.
After a few more moments, just as I heard the hurried steps behind me, I whipped around to see the flash of a coat ducking into a dark alley. The movement gave me away, but just ahead was an intersection—well lit, and busy, even at this time of night, somewhere difficult to be tailed. I waited for the head to pop back out of the alleyway, a dark orb appearing in my hand, then sent it hurtling towards the entrance, releasing my grip on it at just the right moment for it to explode at the alley’s mouth. I cursed under my breath as the orb kept traveling another ten feet, exploding behind the alley, realizing that the darkness must have thrown off my depth perception.
The flash of light illuminated the street like a lightning strike, wreathing the silhouette of the dark figure in gold as he exited the alleyway. The blast drove him forwards, and he landed on all fours, his momentum carrying him back onto his feet as he sprinted full tilt towards me. Turning on my heel, I launched another orb at him, this one aimed directly at his chest—but he ducked, and the orb sailed past him yet again, the following explosion only adding to his speed. He was only twenty feet behind me when I reached full speed, but faster than me and closing the distance, seemingly undeterred by the lit intersection ahead.
Titan Song (Star Child: Places of Power Book 3) Page 11