Wearing the Cape

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Wearing the Cape Page 21

by Marion G. Harmon


  Everyone's taller than me. Ajax thinks I like to shorten them.

  Brick collapsed with a grunt and I landed on him. Rolling him on top of me and pushing with my legs, I launched him into the ceiling. Plaster rained down as he comically stuck there for a moment, and when he came down I gave him a two-handed open palm thrust to knock him into the wall again. I paid only enough attention to make sure I didn't bounce him into one of the other players. They'd scattered behind me, the reason I liked the wall—a clear target I could throw Brick at. At least till I broke it, which I did with the second hit.

  Brick went through the wall in a rain of his namesake.

  Well, rats.

  I jumped through the hole after him and into the rapidly clearing bar. They'd heard the fighting and when I came through most did the smart thing and made for the doors, but a few actually started shooting. It stung, like getting shot by rubber bands, and I ignored them. Putting a foot on Brick's left arm, I ground my right knee into his back, put his right arm in a lock, and pushed like I was trying to fly us both through the floor beneath us. The wood floor groaned, and I leaned down.

  "Brick?" I said in a conversational voice. "You know what to do."

  He did.

  I was only shaking a little this time, and managed to hide it as the police moved in around me and Brick to pack everybody up. They'd come in the front as soon as they heard gunshots, and I pulled Brick back into the card room so we could have them all in one place until the paddywagon pulled around back. I'd have to tell Atlas I hadn't used the door. Either door.

  Artemis put hoods over Vacuum and Lighter before the police came in the back. Their files said they pretty much couldn't use their powers on what they couldn't see. Cutter wore chainmail mittens with his cuffs. I sat Brick down in one of the unbroken chairs. He had to sit sideways because of the titanium thumb cuffs.

  "Ma'am?"

  Sergeant Donahue stepped in the back door.

  "Yes sergeant?" I said politely.

  "The paddywagon's here. We've cleaned up the front."

  I grinned. "You don't have to tell me, sergeant. Yours, not mine."

  He actually blushed, an impressive sight on a red haired South Side Irish boy.

  "No ma'am, you're right." He nodded to us both. "Thank you. Right this way."

  * * *

  We watched from the roof again as the paddywagons pulled away. Artemis sat on the ledge and pulled her feet up.

  "I was never around for the other arrests, you know? Where I'd drop a tip? This is much more fun."

  I agreed. "I just wish I wasn't so scared."

  She threw back her head and laughed. "Really? I couldn't tell by watching!"

  "Atlas taught me that. If you have to fight, do it hard and get it over with. Less chance of getting hurt. And I didn't really hurt Brick that much. It was more a win by intimidation."

  She propped her chin on a knee, pondering something. The shadow of her hood hid her face.

  Finally she sighed. "Men give you the most interesting gifts."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Like how you told me that Andrew is chasing Quin with designer costumes? My job with Blackstone means we talk, a lot, about the team and everything related. Did you know that Atlas pushed to bring you on the team? Not just to train you—he could have done that easily enough without making you a member."

  "And the whole sidekick thing?" She laughed. "Which must be embarrassing at times but is a helluva career booster. His idea. Says possessive, doesn't it?"

  "I didn't—"

  "Blackstone sold him on my joining by telling him you wanted me here too," she pressed on. "And he's turned celibate since you joined—they hardly ever see him at The Fortress anymore. And tonight? Ajax thought you'd been too shaken by your first fight with Brick and didn't want you to go it alone. You asked for it and got it. You remind me of one of my old high school BFFs. So smart, but when it came to boys sooo dumb."

  I sat on the ledge.

  "You don't know what you're talking about. It's happened before—guys see me as this little girl they need to protect. My dad, my brothers, my friend's boyfriends... Half the reason I played field hockey was to show them all I didn't need it. It didn't work."

  "Protect?" Her voice dripped sarcasm. "I don't see anybody protecting you."

  I rolled my eyes. "You know what I mean. They know what Brick can do. If they'd thought it was really an even fight do you think they would have let me near him again on my own? And nobody else in that room could have hurt me."

  "You might be right there—big shock, you're still a rookie."

  "Gee, thanks."

  "Well, I gave it my best shot." She unfolded and stood on the edge. "If you won't listen don't hate me later for saying I told you so!"

  She misted away before I could respond, which hardly seemed fair.

  Chapter Thirty One

  Secret identities sound cool, but are a pain in the butt to maintain. Most of the time the problem isn't being recognized in costume—it's being tripped up in your civilian life. Even the comic books recognized this; it's the reason Clark Kent was a reporter and Bruce Wayne was a gazillionaire. In the real world most heroes with secret identities wind up spending almost all their time in costume anyway, with no private life, no time for a nine-to-five job. And if you're a career hero, unless you make a special effort you hang with other capes, on the job and off.

  Astra, Notes From A Life

  * * *

  The day after the Great Supervillain Roundup I got a text message from the Anarchist: TA-12-27-2000. Since we were into the 21st century I took the message to mean he would drop by two days after Christmas at 8:00 pm (2000 hours in military time). I made the one call I needed to, and then all I could do was wait.

  Artemis denied inheriting any vamp-related phobias from her "sire," but according to legend vampires can't enter a home without an invitation. So she got one. Mom cheated by extending the invitation in person while visiting the Dome the day before Christmas.

  Never. Had. A. Chance.

  On Christmas Eve, I rounded up Jacky and the Bees for one last foray into the wilds of Macy's. We'd been web-camming almost nightly, and they'd hit it off with Jacky so fast I wondered if secret handshakes were involved. There's something about a shared cheerleader past.

  We ate desserts under the Christmas tree in the Walnut Room (Jacky had the hot chocolate), and then carried away our loot to join my family for Midnight Mass at St. Chris. Father Nolan added some modern songs to the mix this year, and the youth band did One King, Blessed is the Child, and Some Children See Him. It was beautiful, and after the service I introduced him to Jacky. He took her hand and said something wonderful sounding in Latin, bless the man.

  Mom wouldn't hear of Jacky not spending the night, and we shared my bed since all the boys were home and Aaron and Josh had brought their families. Our house was big, but not that big. Christmas morning began happy and loud (one niece and two nephews so far, and now, apparently, a beagle). By the way you can photograph a vampire and it's very hard for a fiend of the night to look all dark and tragic getting a tongue-bath from a beagle puppy.

  We left before sunrise on the excuse that we had other people to see. Mom loaded Artemis down with Christmas cake (not being in on the whole liquid diet thing), called the kids out to "say goodbye to Aunt Hope and Aunt Jacky," and let us go with hugs and kisses all around. I nearly laughed at Artemis' panicked look.

  We drove back to the Dome in silence.

  Atlas and I spent the rest of the morning seeing those other people—kids waiting for us to make "deliveries for Santa" at a half-dozen children's shelters. The story was we'd met him on his flight and offered to help. Atlas bounced kids on his knee, answered endless questions, ho ho ho'd a lot, and his smiles were real. I couldn't take my eyes off him and he kept catching me.

  Once back at the Dome I put on jeans and a sweatshirt, went to play Santa Claus for our team, and found Artemis with Chakra, Blackstone, Atlas, and Quin prep
aring Christmas dinner with Willis in the kitchen. Blackstone was an amazing cook, serving up honey-glazed ham, yams, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and the fluffiest rolls imaginable while Bing Crosby and Burl Ives sang in the background. It almost made up for not being home. The evening ended with a Christmas Movie marathon, but afterward I changed back into costume and took a flight.

  The lights of Chicago spread below me in beautiful cross-hatch patterns under the full moon, looking like a geometric field of stars beneath my feet. Three thousand feet up, I took off my mask and earbug and clipped both to my belt. A sudden drop in temperature had put a lot of ice crystals in the upper atmosphere, and a brilliant halo ringed the moon. Commuter planes roared quietly by far below. It was a beautiful Christmas night.

  The night sky had become my sanctuary.

  Then I realized I wasn't alone: Atlas had come up to join me. He’d changed back into uniform too, minus the mask.

  He floated up beside me.

  "Come here often?" he asked.

  I started giggling and covered my mouth. A pickup line! Here!

  His lips twitched.

  "Artemis told me you're up here all the time these days," he confessed with a smile.

  "Where do you go?" I asked.

  "I like the mountains, so I have a cabin in the Rockies. I can only fly there on my off-duty days, but I'm probably there two or three weeks a year. Less, recently."

  "That sounds nice." A city girl, I'd loved summer camp because of all the stars I couldn't see in town.

  We were both quiet and then he turned to face me.

  "Hope," he said. "We haven't really talked since the Christmas Ball, but I'm not blind and if I was Chakra would have laughed the stupid out of me long ago. Now isn't—"

  "No!" I said desperately, feeling the blood roaring into my cheeks even as my heart dropped into my feet. Please no. I shook my head in denial.

  "It's not like that! I'm just—"

  "Hope—"

  "You really don't have to say anything! It'll pass, really it—"

  He grabbed my shoulders.

  "Hope, shut up."

  "Shut up? What are we, ten?"

  "No, thank God. I was going to say that now is not the right time. But I know how you feel about... hell, half the team does—Chakra had words with me. So it's only fair for me to tell you where I'm at, too." He ran a hand through his hair. "I… dammit. You're necessary to me. Lord that sounds stupid, but—"

  "I—" I must have looked like a stunned fish. He stopped and laughed, but not like anything was funny.

  "Yup. Got me that way too. All I thought I had to do was keep you out of trouble." His hands dropped to my arms as he looked at me, and I couldn’t look away.

  "But. Wh—what do we do?"

  "Not a damn thing," he said, his voice rough. "Like I said, it's not the right time. Not for anything. We're not through with your training, and you need to know what you want. I need you to know what you want. You can have it all, but I'm still... fixing things that need to be fixed. Plenty of time."

  I nodded convulsively. Time, oh yes. But when he let go I panicked. He went stiff as a board when I wrapped my arms around his neck. I hid my face, mortified, but his hands came up, sliding up my arms to gently pull me away. His smile was gone and I couldn’t read him at all.

  And he kissed me. A chaste kiss, but not quick, and his breath stroked my cheek when he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine.

  Panic had flown, and now I fought the absurd urge to start giggling again.

  He lifted his head, back to watching me, but his mouth had softened and his eyes were bright. We hung there beneath the moon, only breathing for what seemed forever, the only other sound the swelling and fading roar of jet engines far below.

  He dropped his hands, letting us drift apart.

  "I do come here often," I whispered. I couldn't get any strength into my voice, and I didn’t know what to do with my hands.

  "Then I won’t," he said. "Time."

  I nodded, because he was right.

  He let me go, and I felt as cold as I really should have been up there as he sank out of sight, leaving me alone again under the moon.

  But the cold went away as I breathed, and the haloed moon looked down and I... laughed, dancing through the air in its clean pale light.

  PART SEVEN

  Chapter Thirty Two

  We define ourselves as much by what we oppose as what we approve, what we won't do as what we will do. Each choice we make forecloses other choices, while making still more choices necessary. Life is a decision-tree we climb half blind.

  Astra, Notes From A Life

  * * *

  I went back home Christmas Night.

  I needed to be where I wouldn't accidentally run into Atlas for a little while. When it had been a hopeless love I'd had it under control. Mostly. Now just thinking about his kiss I felt the flush down to my navel, and it scared me as much as it thrilled me. I needed time before I could face him, or anyone else at the Dome. Fortunately I'd actually scheduled the entire block from Christmas to New Years as catch-up time, and since it seemed more than one of them had been playing matchmaker, they could all wait.

  And I wanted to spend a little more time with my parents before the twenty-seventh. I had no idea what would happen then.

  I got to see Aaron and Josh and their families off the next day. Aaron slung little Katie over his shoulder so she waved at us behind his back. Cindy, who was really nice, had Marcus in one hand and Snoopy's leash in the other. Josh and Michelle practically had to drag Anthony away, screaming over leaving his grandma. Even Toby headed back to his on-campus apartment to study.

  "So when are you going to tell them, dear?" Mom asked, putting an arm around me as we walked back inside. After I stomped on the Cancer Scare idea we'd decided I'd been offered a chance to study abroad freshman quarter, staying with Aunt Rachel in Rhone. The Sentinels had even helped provide the details to make the thin story work.

  I sighed, resting my head on her shoulder. "How about never? Dad certainly took his time."

  "I told each of your brothers when they graduated from high school," he said. "And I'm not sure it's the same."

  "It's exactly the same. I have three overprotective brothers. Even Toby. It's probably a good thing I never had a real boyfriend. Can you imagine what they'd say now?"

  "I think you underestimate them, dear," Mom disagreed.

  "So they're more evolved than Dad. But they'd worry a lot. Aaron and Josh have their own families to worry about—they don't need to worry about their little sis."

  Dad just smiled, letting the more evolved dig pass. We carefully didn't talk about it, but he still hoped to have less to worry about soon.

  "And they'd be right to worry," he said. "You've always been too... contained about things. When you got sick and almost, well, all those doctors and tests and the surgery, and never a peep from you. The same when—well, you know."

  "I know Dad." I hugged him with my free arm. "And I promise if it gets to be too much you'll know. But now," I pulled away from both of them. "I've got to show you what we can do with Jacky's present!"

  Artemis had presented us with a big box on Christmas morning. Opening it, we'd found it filled with bags of gourmet coffee beans and ingredients and a handwritten recipe journal. Mom's kitchen had everything else, and I sat them down to enjoy a Jacky Creation; fancy coffee with English cream, cinnamon, and shaved German chocolate. We talked for hours, about the team, about my experiences, my meeting the President...

  Not a word about my ultimate plans or the things I most wanted to talk to them about. The Anarchist. Atlas. Especially Atlas; every time my mind wandered there I felt all woogy, doing the happy-dance inside one moment, the next wanting to run screaming. It was making me dizzy. Ever-perceptive, Mom caught the mood swings that had nothing to do with the conversation, but she didn't pry.

  * * *

  The next night found me ready.

  When the Anarc
hist popped into my room I was sitting cross-legged on my bed in a University tank top and sleeping shorts, with The Fall of Rome open in my lap.

  "Hello Hope."

  Smiling, I closed the book and stood, picking up the picture and a holiday-wrapped can. I handed him the picture, and when he took it I grabbed his wrist and popped the can of freeze foam, discharging it in a pile on his feet.

 

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