Superluminary (Powered Destinies Book 1)

by Olivia Rising

  Nora, at least, was already prepped and positioned by the door leading to the studio door. “Why does your face need more powder? You look fine to me.”

  Chris cracked one eye open to check out what had been done to her teammate. The stylist had undone Nora’s long braids and tamed the wavy mane with a blue cloth headband. In combination with a trendy denim skirt and a pair of black leggings, the new look gave her a cute, girly appearance that softened her strong features.

  “Her skin’s not bad for someone her age,” the stylist replied. “But the lighting in the studio is super intense. We don’t want her skin to look shiny.”

  At least we don’t have to be in costume for once. Chris held her breath while she was enveloped in a cloud of hairspray, and she waved the particles away from her face with her good hand.

  Peter stepped to her side, bending down to inspect her up close. “It’s kind of weird to see you with make-up. You almost look like a girl.”

  Chris met his eyes in the mirror and did something that threw him off balance. She smiled. The puzzled look on his face was priceless.

  Expected a finger, didn’t you?

  “And we’re done!” the stylist enthused, removing the protective linen bib with a flourish. “Unless we can convince you to let our wardrobe department dress you?”

  Chris glanced down at her tried-and-true hoodie, the gift she received from Ryan for her eighteenth birthday. “No thanks. I’m good.”

  Okay, maybe there were two people she wanted to send messages to.

  She had resisted the urge to press Athena for more updates on Ryan’s condition because she knew the heroine already had a lot on her plate. Fortunately, however, no heroes were murdered since yesterday’s events in New York, and the world had been relatively quiet all day.

  Peter tucked his hands into the pockets of his loose-fitting gray-linen pants while inspecting himself in the nearest mirror. “I’m kind of digging this no-costume thing. The chicks will dig it, too.” As he passed a hand through his impeccably messed medium length brown hair, he grinned at his reflection.

  He wasn’t bad looking, Chris had to admit. But his player act put a huge damper on his attractiveness.

  Nora smoothed her girly outfit as Peter joined her in the doorway. “Let’s hope the no costumes deal becomes a permanent thing.”

  Chris hoped so, too, especially for the other girl’s sake. Given her controversial history and the fact that people had gotten hurt during her transition, the scary-looking costume did nothing to improve Noire’s public image.

  “Five minutes!” came the studio assistant’s voice.

  Chris slowly pushed herself up from the makeup chair and accepted the crutch that the stylist held out to her. When she felt reasonably sure on her feet, she hobbled over to the doorway to join her teammates. They had been joined by a woman with an EvoLife staff headset who was doing a check of their microphones.

  Nora didn’t pay any attention to the woman. “Hey, Chris. Did you hear back from the Euro heroes?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to email Rune yet. It would be a dick move to contact him about business when their teammate is still in hospital.”

  “Good point.” Peter craned his neck while the EvoLife worker adjusted the mic tucked into his collar. “But you’ll do it soon?”

  “It’s on my list for tomorrow.”

  After all their mics had been cleared, the assistant gestured for them to go upstairs so they could get seated on-set while the show was on commercial break.

  Chris pulled her cell phone from her hoodie to do one last check for missed messages. Since there weren’t any, she turned the power off and hoped Radiant wouldn’t try to call her while the show was on. Now that she’d made the step to contact him, she didn’t want to miss his answer. An experienced hero on her side could make all the difference if the Wardens were about to get into trouble.

  Peter took the lead, nearly running up the flight of stairs. Despite Nora’s help it took Chris a full minute to reach the top, and her arm muscles ached from the effort. The climb made her miss the workout she used to get from boxing practice.

  The rotund stage manager awaited them at the top. He herded them through a tight passageway leading to the studio, and pulled back the heavy green curtain at the end to reveal the stage.

  As she passed through, she first spotted the man she recognized as Steven Reid, the show’s host. He was a rosy-featured, pleasant-faced guy in his thirties, dressed up in a light summer outfit that screamed ‘casual chic.’ He sat on a brown leather armchair which was the focal point of the studio lighting, flanked by a vacant green velvet sofa on the left.

  The spotlights aimed at the stage were a touch too intense for Chris’s taste, making her feel exposed and vulnerable. The effort of climbing the stairs caused her to pant as beads of sweat trailed down her back.

  A spattering of applause came from the audience when the Wardens stepped out from behind the curtain. Narrowing her eyes against the flood lights, she made out the half dozen semicircular rows of seats surrounding the stage on three sides. There were close to a hundred seats in total, all occupied except for a few in the back row.

  She froze on the spot, feeling hot and cold at the same time. Oh crap, what did I get myself into?

  Mr. Turner was seated in the front row, watching the stage with rapt attention and leaning over so far that Chris was afraid he might topple over.

  The host looked up from a handful of cue cards and smiled at his guests. “Welcome, welcome! I’m Steven Reid, but you can call me Steve if you like. Heck, we’re all friends here, right?”

  He extended a hand to Chris, who gave it a quick shake. Peter jumped at the opportunity next while Nora was a little more reluctant. It took her a moment to accept the host’s hand.

  “Please, sit,” Steven Reid urged, gesturing at the green sofa.

  This guy’s trying a little too hard.

  On their way over to the studio, she had watched a few video clips of the host in action. The On-air Steven Reid she saw wasn’t as casual with his guests as he was now. Maybe he put on a special act for teenagers.

  Peter claimed the section of sofa closest to the host’s armchair, squaring his shoulders and inflating his chest. Chris waited until Nora got settled on the other end of the couch before sitting between them. After stretching her bandaged ankle out in front of her, a studio assistant rushed to remove the crutch from the shot. Chris reluctantly passed it over. If any kind of emergency—supervillains, for instance—came up, she would have a hard time reacting without that thing.

  The host must have noticed her discomfort. “No need to be nervous, gang!” he said. “We’ll just have a nice little chat, that’s all.”

  Peter gave an overzealous belly laugh, loving all the attention. “Oh, we’re used to interviews like this. We used to do these sorts of appearances all the time. But of course”—he nudged Chris’s shoulder with his elbow—“we didn’t have our mascot back then.”

  Chris did her best to return something like a smile while her mind drifted off elsewhere. She wasn’t yet sure how to bait Gentleman without tipping her fellow Americans off, hoping that she would recognize a good opening for her message when the opportunity presented itself.

  “Places! We’re rolling in ten!” the stage manager shouted. Once he started his countdown, the camera crew scurried into position. The host took a sip from his water glass before settling back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other.

  “…seven … six…”

  The stage manager raised an arm into the air and his countdown became silent, each passing second marked by a lowered finger.

  Chris felt a brush of fingers against her own when the EvoLife jingle played over the speaker system. She looked down to see Nora’s hand resting over hers, giving it a light squeeze.

  I’ve got your back, too.

  For as much as this appearance was about getting a message to Gentleman, Chris also knew that it was a public opinion tri
al of sorts—and the defendant in this case was Nora. Her mind was overtaken with a flurry of thoughts as the host introduced them from his armchair. She had to force herself to keep paying attention.

  “…the Wardens, who have only just returned from New York!” Mr. Reid announced as the cameras trained on a close-up of his face. “They’ve gotten permission to leave their costumes at home today so our viewers can get to know them up close and personal!”

  The cameras panned back for a sweeping shot of the Wardens on the green couch.

  Chris forced a nervous smile as the host called out, “And here they are—Peter Moore, Christina Chung, and Nora Landry!”

  A round of applause boomed from the studio audience. She noticed Mr. Turner was clapping with a lot of energy.

  “Welcome, Wardens,” the host gushed when the applause died down.

  Peter leaned back and draped an arm across the back of the couch. “Hi, Steven.”

  Would be nice if I could let him do the talking.

  Mr. Reid chuckled. “I’ll begin with you, Peter. How do you feel about making a public appearance so soon after your life-threatening ordeal in New York yesterday? Everyone would have understood if you decided you needed some rest.”

  “I was one of the lucky ones because I got away with nothing more than a few bruises, thanks to Chris here who protected me with one of her force fields.” Peter rolled his sleeve up to his elbow, revealing the purple-black bruise covering most of his forearm before his smile slipped. “I just wish I could have done more for the people who weren’t so lucky.”

  Which begs the question, why the hell didn’t the Guardian protect the others? Chris braced herself for the reprimand and was grateful when the host took a much more sensitive route instead.

  “How are you feeling about things today, Christina? Your first assignment as a Warden couldn’t have been easy.”

  She resisted the urge to rub her cheek. “The Covenant did most of the work yesterday,” she said, not sure which camera to look into. “I’m just glad we were able to make a difference.”

  After a spattering of applause from the audience, she hoped the interview would move on, but it did not.

  “You’re just being modest, surely,” the host pressed. “Nobody can deny that you hit it out of the park with Mirage. You must feel pretty good about that, huh?”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about Mirage. I heard she died on the way to the hospital, and … well, I’ve never killed anyone before.” The words didn’t come easy, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  The host’s expression softened. “That must be difficult for someone so young. How old are you, Christina?”

  “Eighteen,” she replied. “Just like Nora.”

  “And I’m nineteen,” Peter piped up.

  The host turned his attention to the Darkshaper. “Speaking of Nora, let’s bring her into this conversation. The Wardens have faced numerous challenges in the past months. The death of the young Transmuter, Nato. The loss of a team leader. And now the emergence of a supervillain cell. Scary stuff, and you’re in the midst of it all.”

  The Darkshaper shifted, uncomfortable. “Uh-huh.”

  “How do you feel about that? Is it ever … overwhelming?”

  Nora shrugged. She had warned them that she didn’t like talking on camera and that wasn’t a lie. In a way Chris was glad for her teammate’s reluctance. Much as she hated the camera, she was the one with the message and the one who had caught the villain’s interest three weeks ago.

  Come on, she thought. Give me something I can work with.

  As if reading her mind, Mr. Reid turned his attention back to her.

  “What about you, Christina? Do you ever feel overwhelmed by it all?” He feigned a sympathetic expression. “Especially now that, for the first time ever, you have to deal with villains?”

  It was the perfect opening.

  She glanced over at Peter and with a flick of a finger on her knee, he gave her a nod and settled back to leave this part of the interview to her.

  She took a deep breath. Don’t screw this up.

  “This isn’t exactly my first time dealing with villains,” she answered, hoping Mr. Reid would take the bait.

  He did. His pudgy face lit up with interest. “Is that so?”

  Chris chose her words carefully. “There wasn’t much on the news about it, but I encountered a villain back in May.”

  “And what villain was that? Our viewers will surely want to know the details.”

  As if on cue, another round of enthusiastic applause erupted from the audience.

  “His name is Gentleman,” Chris said. “I encountered him and his fifteen-foot killer robot in Seattle.”

  The host leaned closer to her, eager to scoop an exclusive. “He sounds like a nasty piece of work.”

  “I guess. But in a way, that encounter prepared me for what happened yesterday.”

  “You mean it made you feel more confident in your abilities?”

  Chris shook her head. “No, I mean I’m pretty sure he’s behind the kidnappings in Liverpool and the tragedy that happened in New York yesterday.”

  There was an audible gasp from the audience. Because she avoided glancing at Mr. Turner in his chair, she could just picture his tight grimace of disapproval. The conversation was now taking a turn that hadn’t been pre-approved by the Department of Evolved Affairs.

  “That’s … a daring statement, to say the least.” The host wet his lips in anticipation of a ratings hike. “What makes you so sure?”

  “Well, Steve, call it a hunch. Another hunch says I’ll run into him again soon, and maybe we’ll get a chance to finish what we began. He left me with some unanswered questions.”

  “I’m sure you aren’t the only one who’ll want to speak to him,” the host mused. “But if he’s truly the supervillain you say he is, aren’t you afraid?”

  Chris looked straight into the nearest camera. “Gentleman doesn’t scare me.”

  “Maybe not, but what about your teammates? What do you think about a possible encounter with a supervillain of such notoriety, Nora?”

  “Chris does the thinking.” Nora’s voice was firm. “I’m just the gal who has her back.”

  “Same here.” Peter grimaced when he caught his own mistake. “I mean, I’m not a gal, obviously,” he backtracked. “But I know we’re all ready to up our game and do some old-fashioned hero work.” The rousing round of applause from the audience rewarded him.

  ***

  A few minutes after the taping ended the Wardens found themselves backstage, alone in the small cafeteria reserved for staff and guests. Mr. Turner had gone to see one of the producers, and the staff was busy finishing up so they could prepare for the next show.

  Peter plopped onto a chair at one of the cafeteria tables and emptied half a dozen sugar packets into his cup of coffee.

  “Can’t you drink that in the car?” Chris asked, standing over him. “If we get out now, we might be able to avoid Turner and the shitstorm that’s about to hit us.” She wasn’t in the mood to hear a recap of how she didn’t follow the guidelines and screwed everything up.

  Nora took a seat next to Peter, fussing with her hair. “What’s the rush? You know he’s gonna yell at us sooner or later.”

  Peter took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “Ah.” He leaned back in his chair.

  Chris gave him her best stone-faced death glare.

  “What? Besides, I don’t think we were that bad. Those chicks in the first row never stopped smiling.”

  “Yeah, but Turner’s gonna—”

  “Gonna what?” Nora challenged. “I’m not buying the scaredy-cat act, Chris. What’s a grumpy boss after everything you’ve already put up with?”

  “I’m not scared,” Chris defended herself. “But listening to the Turneresque rant is going to be a waste of time. That message we just sent could bounce back at us any moment.”

  Peter took another languid sip of his coffee. “Chil
l. It’s been what, less than ten minutes?”

  Chris resisted the urge to punch him. “You know they stream this online, right?”

  “So?”

  “So if Data runs a search routine on name drops, ten minutes is plenty.” She tried and failed to keep the frustration out of her voice. “I mean, seriously—”

  She was interrupted by the shrill ring of a cell phone. It took her a second to realize that the sound came from her own pocket, freezing her thoughts. Her pulse quickened.

  Peter broke the silence first. “Shit. That is fast.”

  Chris balanced on her good leg to dig out her phone. The display showed an unknown number.

  “I’m going to answer it,” she said, her finger poised over the answer button. “Be quiet, okay?”

  “Okay,” Nora echoed.

  “Tell him to call back when I’ve finished my coffee,” Peter joked in a hushed voice.

  Chris ignored his quiet chuckle, and brought the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Mascot?” It was a male voice on the other end of the line, heavy and blunt.

  “Yes, speaking.” She gripped the phone harder to settle the trembling in her hands.

  Her mind raced in an effort to place the voice. The man on the other end of the line sounded different from what she remembered of Gentleman. But then again … the villain was known to change voices as easily as he changed appearances.

  “Who is this?” she asked, more abrupt than she intended.

  “Radiant. You want to talk to me?”

  Now that he was speaking more, Chris detected a barely noticeable Russian accent hidden in his warm baritone. Not that it was any kind of clue since Gentleman could assume any accent.

  I need some kind of proof it’s actually him.

  She covered the mouthpiece with her hand so she could talk to her teammates without the caller overhearing. “He says he’s Radiant,” she whispered.

  “Are you sure?” Peter whispered back.

  Nora said nothing, but studied her.

  “Not yet.” Chris removed her hand to speak into the phone again. “Okay. What can I do for you?”