by Zoe Chant
“What?”
“For the cook-off,” she said impatiently.
Something small and flickering zipped past his head. He ducked instinctively, but wasn’t disturbed. Whatever the fast little thing was, he’d seen it (or rather, not quite seen it) three times now, and it didn’t seem to do anything but cause a ruckus when everyone tried to catch it.
“Hang on a second,” he said. “I’m putting you on speakerphone.”
“Oooh,” she sang out. “Am I getting to meet your team? Hi, Dad’s team!”
“No. I’m alone. A… a wasp or something flew in. I’m going to open a window and try to shoo it out.” Pete hit the speakerphone button and put his phone down on the table.
“Don’t get stung.”
At the sound of Caro’s voice, the buzzing sound like the rapid flap of tiny wings stopped. Pete looked up, startled. The flittering thing had vanished.
“Never mind. It’s gone.” He picked up the phone again. “Listen, Lina—”
“Caro,” she corrected him. Her voice had a dangerous edge to it; she’d figured out what the call was really about. “Not coming home tonight, huh?”
“No. I’ve got a 24-7 job.”
“Will it be over by the cook-off?”
“I don’t know. I wish I could tell you one way or another, but I can’t. That’s just how my job works.”
“Funny how that’s just how all your jobs always work.” Caro sounded on the verge of tears. “Anyone would think you hated being home!”
Before he could reply, she hung up.
Pete caught himself pressing his knuckles into his chest. His heart ached inside. He’d missed other things she’d looked forward to because of his work before. And every time he did, the distance between them grew that much wider.
Just this once, he wished he could bring his work home with him. The one bright moment in the whole nightmare of Apex had been releasing the little creatures from their cages. Caro had always adored animals. Horses were her favorites, but she also loved all things small and fluffy. He couldn’t imagine anything that would make her happier than meeting a fluffy flying kitten, other than having a fluffy flying kitten of her own.
Or a non-flying kitten of her own. But Mom was allergic to fur, and it didn’t seem fair to keep a cat or dog locked in one room of the house.
Maybe he’d take Caro to the pet shop when he was done with this job, and get her a hamster or rat or guinea pig. Something like that would be content living in a cage, and she could play with it to her heart’s content inside her room. It wouldn’t make up for… everything else… but it’d be a start.
Pete sighed. He just wanted his little girl to be happy. This sure wasn’t how he’d imagined their reunion. For one thing, those daydreams had always started with him picking her up and swinging her around, like she’d always used to beg him to do. But now she was too grown-up for that, and even if she wasn’t, it’d hurt too much for him to do it for more than a few seconds…
…or would it? After all, Tirzah’s touch hadn’t hurt. Maybe whatever the hell was wrong with him had worn off.
Filled with hope, Pete strode out of the room, determined to find out via the first non-Tirzah person he encountered.
Unfortunately, that was Merlin. Pete stopped and stared. His weirdo teammate was leaning way out an open window, waving… something… and making strange whistling noises. Pete was strongly tempted to walk on by and pretend he hadn’t seen a thing, but Merlin had presented him with the perfect opportunity.
“Hey,” Pete said, and poked his shoulder.
A jolt of shocking agony made him yank his hand back. So it was just Tirzah.
Merlin twisted around, still at a precarious angle. “Yeah?”
“Uh…” Pete’s mind went completely blank for a moment before he remembered his excuse. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to lure the whatever-it-is,” Merlin replied with a shrug.
“With what? And why?”
“With a piece of lox,” Merlin replied. “And because I want a cute little pet to perch on my shoulder like Tirzah and the west coast team have, of course!”
Shaking his head in disbelief, Pete left his lunatic teammate and returned to the lobby. Tirzah was regaling Carter, Ransom, and Roland with a story of one of her exploits as Override. She made a wide gesture, and the sleeves of her loose T-shirt slid back, exposing surprisingly strong-looking shoulders. Pete supposed it was from moving her wheelchair around. Her upper arms were lightly freckled. He wanted to touch them, to feel the softness of her skin, the heat of the blood beneath, the firm swell of her muscles…
Forcing his mind back to business, he cleared his throat. “Carter? I need you to help me with the security for Tirzah’s apartment. Can you come to the tech room?”
“You have a tech room?” Tirzah asked longingly. “Can I come too?”
“Don’t see why not,” Pete said.
“You’re welcome,” said Carter. “The flying menace is very much not.”
Tirzah popped a loudly protesting Batcat into the carrier. They headed to the tech room, where Pete endured Carter’s instructions on use and installation, all delivered with the subtext of What sins did I commit that I have to teach him to use this stuff? But Pete couldn’t summon his usual level of pissed-off-ness, not while Tirzah was spinning her chair around like a kid in a candy shop, occasionally reaching out to pet some computer or gadget. He might not share her love for things with dangling wires, but her sheer delight was contagious.
She said a reluctant farewell to the tech room, and Merlin (now waving a ring of canned pineapple out the window) said a reluctant farewell to Batcat. Then, to Pete’s immense relief, he extracted himself from the office and was once again alone with Tirzah.
As he drove back to her apartment, he found himself observing Refuge City with her eyes. On the way to the office, he’d mostly noticed the traffic jams, the obnoxious other drivers, the graffiti tags, and the reek of exhaust fumes and asphalt. On the way back, his attention was drawn more by a striking wall mural of some fantastical city of the future, a flash mob of classical musicians singing “O Fortuna,” and a very familiar-looking man driving a pink Cadillac.
“Check out the Elvis impersonator,” Pete said, jerking his head toward the man driving the Cadillac.
“You sure he’s an impersonator?” Tirzah inquired. “I heard his death was faked. He might be the real thing.”
Traffic came to an abrupt stop, trapping them beside Elvis. Pete craned his head to see what it was this time. Half a block ahead, three men had jumped out of their cars, leaving them stopped in the middle of the road, and were yelling at each other, ignoring every car in the road honking at them. Pete was tempted to go bang their heads together. But he didn’t want to leave Tirzah alone in the car, so he settled back in his seat. It looked like they and Elvis might be there for a while.
“Think he’ll serenade us if we ask him nice?” Pete asked.
“Worth a try,” she replied. He’d been kidding, but Tirzah rolled down her window, leaned out, and called, “Hey, Elvis! Can we get a song?”
Elvis promptly began singing “Love Me Tender.”
“I don’t think he’s really Elvis,” Pete said in an undertone.
“I think you’re right,” Tirzah murmured. “But he does have a nice voice.”
Love me tender, love me true...
Pete no longer hated the Refuge City traffic. As far as he was concerned, those three idiots up ahead could go on shaking their fists at each other for as long they liked. The only thing he’d enjoy more than being serenaded by an Elvis impersonator while in a car with Tirzah was being serenaded by an Elvis impersonator while in a car with Tirzah, with his hand on her thigh. Just the thought of it made him ache with longing… and desire.
A fusillade of beer cans, pizza slices, and one well-aimed tennis ball flew through the air from all the cars within throwing range of the arguing men, forcing them to retreat to their own cars.
To Pete’s regret, traffic started up again, ending the moment. Elvis tipped an invisible hat to them as he drove on by.
They were back at Tirzah’s apartment building after what felt like a very short ride, though Pete’s watch told them they’d been moving at the pace of molasses in winter. He parked, got out Tirzah’s wheelchair and opened the door for her, and then hefted the big case of security equipment, his own go-bag, and Batcat’s carrier/suitcase.
“Wow,” she said, staring at him wide-eyed. “Just… Wow.”
“What?” Pete asked. “Did I forget something?”
Tirzah chuckled. “Nope. Not a thing wrong with that picture. Um, it’s just a lot of weight for one guy to carry.”
“Nah. It’s a bunch of pieces but none of them are heavy. All of them together are forty pounds, max. In the Marines I used to carry twice that on my back every day.”
Pete could almost feel her gaze, like a hot ribbon of silk, as it slid along his arms and shoulders and chest.
“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I can see that you did.”
They had to run the gauntlet of neighbors on their way in, who wanted to get all the juicy details and offer Tirzah their support. Pete told them to pass it on, and extracted him and Tirzah with the excuse of needing to install security measures immediately.
By the time they both got to her apartment, they exchanged glances of mutual relief at being away from the crowd. Tirzah unpacked Batcat, who puffed into an angry ball of fur until only her yellow eyes were visible in a black sphere.
“She looks like the soot creatures in, uh, a movie,” Pete said. He could hardly say it had been Caro’s favorite when she’d been younger. “My Neighbor Totoro.”
“They’re in Spirited Away, too.”
“Right,” he said, remembering the scene. “They carry coal in the engine room.”
“So, you like Miyazaki movies? What’s your favorite?”
Pete resigned himself to Tirzah thinking he watched anime movies about cat buses and pig pilots all by himself. “Princess Mononoke. She’s badass. What’s yours?”
Her smile made him regret nothing but the secrets he still had to keep. “Kiki’s Delivery Service. What can I say, I can’t resist a black cat. Right, Batcat?”
Batcat spat at them both, then hid under the sofa. Pete started setting up an alarm system. Tirzah watched him work with great interest, occasionally asking questions so technical that he didn’t even understand what they were.
“I can make it work,” he said. “And I can tell you what it does. But if you want to know how it works, you’ll have to ask Carter.”
“I will,” she said. “I still can’t believe Carter Howe is on your team!”
“He’s not. And he’ll never miss a chance to remind us of it. He just… hangs around a lot.”
“So, what’s up with him? Does he turn into something too?”
“Damned if I know. I sure haven’t ever seen him do it.”
Tirzah flung up her hands, her full lips parted in an O of astonishment. “And none of you have ever asked? You can’t tell me Merlin’s never asked!”
“Merlin’s asked. Many, many, many times. Carter won’t say.” Pete finished setting up the door alarm, and moved on to the windows. Over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll tell you everything I know, but it’s not much. All the rest of us are ex-military. Carter’s a civilian. He got kidnapped by Apex—original version, not the wizard-scientists who got me and Ransom and Merlin and Roland. That’s why he was presumed dead for a while. Remember Lamorat from the file? He was the wizard-scientist we got in a fight with. He called Carter Apex’s failure.”
“So he doesn’t turn into anything?” Tirzah sounded a little disappointed. “They experimented on him, but it didn’t work?”
Pete hesitated. He had an opinion on that, but it would involve telling her some things about himself that he wasn’t sure he wanted her to know. She obviously didn’t mind that he could turn into a cave bear but learning that it was much more than just a physical transformation was something else entirely. Especially if she ever actually saw the raging animal within him.
Still. He had promised to tell her more.
“I think they did change him somehow,” Pete said slowly. “I can feel it when I’m around him.”
“Feel it how?”
“Hang on. Let me get this.” Pete finished up the last window, taking his time on it. Then he turned to face her. He wanted to keep his eyes on her when he explained this bit, so he could know when he started scaring her and could back off. “I don’t know how it is for the other guys. But I don’t just turn into a bear. I am the bear. Or maybe the bear is me. I can hear his voice inside my head. But it’s my voice, really. It’s the part of me that’s… a beast.”
He stopped, searching her expression for fear. But he saw none, only curiosity and another emotion which it took him a moment to recognize. It was sympathy.
“Does he talk to you a lot?” she asked.
He shook his head. “But I can always feel him inside of me. That’s why I think Carter does turn into… something. The beast in me recognizes the beast in him.”
Even then, Tirzah didn’t seem afraid. But, of course, she’d never actually seen his cave bear. And she was a city woman through and through. She probably hadn’t ever seen any bear that wasn’t a fat, nearly tame zoo animal. She must be imagining something big but basically harmless, like an immense St. Bernard.
He hoped he’d never have to transform in front of her. But just in case he did. He needed to warn her.
“The cave bear… It’s not like Merlin’s velociraptor,” Pete said. “That thing looks scary—well, it does when it gets big enough—and you saw how he has a hard time getting it to turn into the right size, and turning back into a person. But he has complete control of what it does. I don’t. When I turn into a bear, I—the part of me that can think, the part that has self-control—that goes away. All that’s left is the part of me that’s just…” He stopped, knowing how much this would have to scare her, but it had to be said. Quietly, he finished, “…rage.”
But she still didn’t look afraid. “So, what? You rampage around?”
“Yeah. I don’t really remember it, but… Yeah.”
All he saw in her eyes was the bright inquisitive sparkle she’d had in the tech room. “You ever hurt people you don’t want to hurt?”
“No, but that’s just luck. I know I’ve tried.” But he could see she didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand. He gave a frustrated sigh. “Look, if you ever see that bear, and I hope to God you never do, you stay the hell away from it, all right? It’s not safe.”
“Got it,” Tirzah said. She sounded disappointed, like she’d hoped to pet it or something.
He supposed he should be relieved that she wasn’t afraid of him, since that was what he’d been worried about, but instead he had the sinking sensation that she wasn’t taking it seriously enough. He consoled himself with the thought that if she ever did see it, she’d be scared enough then to keep her distance.
Pete picked up the toolkit. “I have to go set up the security cameras around the building. Would you mind staying here, so you can watch the monitors and confirm that they’re working?”
“Sure. I want to set it up so I can watch the feed on my laptop and phone, too.”
Pete left Tirzah busily typing. As he went around the building, setting up cameras and checking for weak points in its security, he tried to focus completely on his work. But his mind kept drifting back to Tirzah, with her clever hands and warm brown eyes, and Caro, whom he’d let down once again. It was too bad they could never meet. He had a feeling they’d like each other.
The tenants kept stopping by to say hello, thank him for protecting Tirzah, offer him baked goods, or try to pump him for gossip. And when they weren’t directly interacting with him, they were often just around, chatting or knocking on doors to ask to borrow a cup of sugar. When he went round the back, he spotted a pair of girls about Car
o’s age perched on the fire escape, painting each other’s finger and toe nails. The busy, nosy, companionable apartment building reminded him of a Marine base in the way that everyone knew and relied on each other.
It wasn’t easy keeping a secret on a military base, with everyone in such close quarters and always popping in and out of each others’ space. Pete wondered just how long Tirzah would be able to keep Batcat a secret from her friendly, curious neighbors.
Then, with an uneasy chill, he wondered how long he could keep his secrets from her.
CHAPTER 8
“I ’m not coming out, and you can’t make me!” Caro shouted at the locked door of her bedroom.
Abuelita’s voice was distant through the door. “Just come have dinner, princesa. I made your favorite—”
“I don’t want food as a consolation prize!” Caro said scornfully. She threw herself down on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. It immediately became damp with tears. She lifted her head long enough to yell, “Just leave me alone!” before putting it down again.
Her grandmother went on entreating her for some time, but finally Caro heard her departing footsteps. Once Caro was sure Abuelita couldn’t hear her, she stopped trying to muffle her sobs.
She’d been so happy when she’d heard Dad was coming home for good, but then everything had gone wrong. Abuelita had warned her that war changes people and he might seem different. But it wasn’t Dad who’d changed, it was her. She’d grown up while he’d been gone, and now she wasn’t his little girl anymore. She was Caro, not Lina. And that had changed everything.
Caro had read all about parents not understanding how to deal with their kids once they became teenagers, but she’d never imagined it would happen to her. But it had. Dad had fixed fancy breakfasts for six little girls having a sleepover at Lina’s place, but he’d bailed on Caro’s cook-off. Lina was the one he’d hugged until she let go. Caro was the one he hugged for fifteen seconds, max.
She’d thought she’d cry all night. But when her tears finally dried, she was surprised to see that less than an hour had passed. She could still go down and have dinner. Abuelita would definitely have saved some for her, and she was hungry.