What does that say about me?
I knew I should try to play this off as him pushing me to it, as if I didn’t have a choice. I had a choice. I could have collared him again and locked him up once I had him down. And I knew better. Even as Ryan fought at the other end of the prison wing, I knew he’d heard every word we’d said. I knew he was watching out for me. And his heart rate had spiked when I’d said “goodbye” to Killjoy. He knew. And he knew it was a choice and I respected him and the rest of my team too much to lie to them about this. If they wanted to lock me up for it, I wasn’t going to fight it.
I stood there looking at Killjoy’s body, as if reassuring myself that this really was over, and then I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Jenson coming toward me. She didn’t say a word, but pulled me into a strong hug, and I hugged her back.
“Thank god,” she murmured. “If there is a hell, I’m going there, because all I feel right now is relief, seeing this,” she said gesturing to Killjoy.
I nodded. “Well, I probably have an express trip there, so… ” I shrugged.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I studied Jenson, and I hated to admit that I was looking for the things Killjoy said I would find there. Distrust, fear. If it was there, I didn’t see it.
“No. I’m not.”
Jenson nodded.
“We’ve got that all wrapped up,” she said after a while. “All of his people, including Chance, have been taken down and they’re getting them locked up again.”
“Everyone okay on our side?” I asked her.
“A few bruises. I think Dani took the worst of it. She might have a few broken ribs.”
I nodded. Jenson took a breath and pressed her comm. “Portia, Killjoy’s dead.”
I swallowed, exchanged a glance with Jenson. A moment later, Portia and Ryan walked into the corridor. Ryan came to me and pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. I put my arms around his waist and something inside me seemed to loosen a bit. I could breathe easier.
I made myself pull away and turned to Portia, who was looking at Killjoy’s body. Ryan took my hand, and I gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Portia looked up at me.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here,” she said quietly. “Goddamn, you make my life complicated, Jolene.”
I opened my mouth, and she held her hand up. “Just… it’s better if you don’t say anything.”
I watched her, and she shook her head. “Shit. I know what I’m supposed to do. You didn’t have to kill him.”
I didn’t answer, and after a moment, she blew out a breath.
“Official story is that you had no choice here,” she said quietly. “Shit.”
“You don’t have to lie for me,” I said.
She glared at me. “Yeah, I do. We all know he wasn’t going to stop. We all know that for whatever reason, no goddamn prison can hold him. He always finds a way out. And after what he did to you, I know none of us want to risk him getting to anyone that way again. Okay? And at the same time, our whole thing here is trying to make the non-powered people feel safe. So yes, I do have to lie for you. I’m sure the hell not going to lock you up, even if I should.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Portia glanced toward the door, then looked back at me. “We will stick to that story. This team needs you.”
“Not as much as you once did. You guys really pulled together while Killjoy had me,” I told her. “Nah. What this team needs, is you. You’re its heart, you’re its moral compass.”
“Way to make me feel worse, Daystar,” Portia said, and I knew she was using my hero name on purpose. The only problem was, the name had never felt like more of a lie. “Moral compass, my ass,” she muttered, looking at Killjoy again. “You did what you had to do,” she added.
Hearing my here name again, looking at Killjoy’s body… it made my path forward clear, finally. The people of my city would always fear me, even if they understood. They’d never sleep soundly, knowing I was out there.
They sure the hell couldn’t be expected to trust that I’d save them.
StrikeForce needed to move forward. It needed to be free of its messy past so it could be the team the city, and the world, needed.
It needed to be free of me.
“Daystar is dead,” I said quietly. Portia, Ryan, and Jenson all stared at me. “She died here today. She chose to kill when she didn’t have to, and she had no regrets. She’d kill him again if she could.”
“Jolene,” Portia said softly.
“We both know how this should end. We both know I can’t be what StrikeForce needs me to be. What the city needs me to be.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, then clamped her mouth shut. Jenson and Ryan watched me. They knew me well enough, I knew, to understand what I was doing. “Tell them Daystar died. Tell them she died, and that she killed Killjoy. Tell them this is all over, and that StrikeForce will be there for them, always.”
“What about you?”
I smiled, and I felt lighter than I’d felt in maybe years. “I’ve re-created myself so many times. Played so many roles. I was the good daughter, the thief, the villain, the hero. I was the shield, and I was the weapon. There are entire morgues full of the women I used to be. I’m ready to remake myself again. But this time, I’m going to be who I choose to be.”
“Where will you go?”
“I’ll be around. Know that if StrikeForce needs me, I’ll be here. But not as Daystar. That chapter of my life is over, and I’m not sorry to close the book on it.”
She nodded, blinking back tears. “For what it’s worth, I thought Daystar was pretty damn amazing,” she said.
“She was all right, some of the time,” I said. “But it’s time to let her go. I’ve spent the past half-year, almost, being moulded and turned into something I never wanted to be. He said he made me,” I said, nodding toward Killjoy’s body. “It’s easy for me to believe that, with everything that happened. I need to prove to myself that I am who I decide to be.”
Portia blew out a breath. “We’ll miss you,” she said.
“I’ll be around. The love of my life is co-leader of the team, after all. And I’m needed. I know that. But I’m ready to move forward now. And StrikeForce should do the same.”
Portia nodded, and Ryan squeezed my hand. We all stood in silence for a few moments, looking at Killjoy.
“Did he have any family or anything like that?” Portia finally asked, and I shook my head.
“Not that I know of. I think he was alone.”
“I’ll coordinate the burial details,” Jenson said. “Do you want to talk to the liaison over at the Tribunal, or do you want me to do it?”
“I’ll talk to them. I don’t even know who’s in charge now, with Eve taking off the way she did. If you want to handle the burial arrangements, I’d appreciate it.”
Jenson nodded. “I’m assuming security will be our biggest priority, assuming anyone bothers to come to the funeral.”
“Oh, they’ll come,” Portia said, turning and walking out of the room while pulling her phone out of her pocket. “People’ll always show up to watch a train wreck.”
A moment later, I went invisible as two of our people from the med facility came and collected Killjoy’s body to transfer to whoever was handling the burial. Ryan and Jenson stood beside me and watched them load the body onto a gurney, cover him with a white sheet, and take him away. He looked like a ghost, the sheet fluttering as they wheeled the gurney out of the prison wing. Jenson left, following them after giving me a quick smile, and then it was just Ryan and me. I glanced up at him.
“Do you want to talk about this?” he asked quietly.
“Not really.”
He nodded, then held his hand out, and I took it. “Then spend the night with me.”
I glanced toward the women’s detention facility.
“I don’t think you need to be there anymore. Do you?” he asked.
“Seriously? I think i
t’s the one place I definitely belong. I killed people, Ryan. I—” I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He watched me, and I finally took a deep breath and teleported us up to his room. Like all kinds of weird little things, I seemed to have remembered that detail just fine. In his room, I showered and nearly felt human again, and then I fell into bed with Ryan and spent the whole night in his arms. We talked, and we kissed, and we discussed what we’d do next.
In the end, we knew we’d still be together, that we’d make it all work no matter what. Everything else in my life was chaos, but this, this one perfect thing, was the rock I knew I could hold on to when things became insane. His name had brought me back. Now it was my job to make a life worth living.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, Ryan and I sat in his bed, big cups of coffee warming our hands, and watched Portia’s press conference on the television in his room. The press turnout had been enormous, and I leaned forward when Portia stepped up to the podium.
“Last night, associates of the supervillain known as Killjoy infiltrated our detention facility with the help of one of our own. Their goal, apparently, was to free Killjoy and the rest of his Mayhem partners we had imprisoned here.” She paused, and I watched her take a deep breath. “Those team members, and Killjoy himself, were freed from their cells, and our team responded immediately. We were able to get control of most of the Mayhem escapees with very few injuries. The one thing we could not do was subdue Killjoy. His enhanced powers proved too much for us, and we were in danger of having him walk out of here to start his next campaign of terror. We could not let that happen.”
She paused again.
“We were focused on making sure the prison break was kept under control. There was one person in the building who we knew, for a fact, was strong enough to subdue Killjoy. Since turning herself in, Daystar has been in a maximum security cell, dampened, under lock and key. Our only chance to avoid Killjoy getting free was to free her and let her fight against him. We had broken Killjoy’s programming of Daystar, and she wanted to make sure he never got out again, either. She faced off against him, of her own free will, to protect this city, the world, from more of Killjoy’s particularly devastating brand of violence.”
The crowd around Portia was silent, and so were Ryan as I as we held hands in bed and watched.
“In the course of their confrontation, which practically destroyed one wing of our prison, Killjoy died. He died at Daystar’s hands. And, in the end, Daystar passed along with him.”
Now the crowd was loud, questions coming at Portia. She held her hands up.
“Daystar died, protecting us. She gave her life ensuring that the man, the villain, who tortured her, brainwashed her, and made her do things she’d never willingly do, would never be able to hurt anyone else. She died a hero. She died doing the thing Daystar has always done, taking on the worst of us to protect the city she called home.”
“The memory of the things she did under Killjoy’s control is still raw in our memories. I ask you now, to push those memories aside. Those should be buried along with Killjoy. I am asking you today to remember Daystar as the hero she was, as the woman who saved an entire football stadium full of people, as the woman who carried terrified children from a burning building at great danger to herself. I’m asking you to remember that no matter how scary she was, she was, ultimately, the thing that stood between us and the nightmares that threatened to destroy us. She was my team mate, my friend. She was a pain in the ass. She was vulgar and impatient and imperfect.”
“She was brave and tireless. She was a hero,” she said again. “And I miss her already. Thank you.”
Ryan and I sat in silence for a while. “So. Watching your own eulogy. Has to feel weird,” he finally said. I smiled at him.
“Not really. Daystar was part of me, but she wasn’t all of me. I’m ready to move on.”
He leaned over and kissed me. “Just promise me I get to be part of whatever comes next.”
“Of course. I want you forever, remember?”
He smiled, and kissed me again, and reminded me just how good forever could be.
Epilogue
One month later…
The doorbell rang, and I skipped down the stairs to answer it. The house bustled with activity, just as it had every day since we’d moved in. I still didn’t understand why Damian had left me this house, but I was grateful for it. I never could have imagined I’d need it for something like this. The gleaming woodwork, floors, and stairway banisters seemed like something out of a movie, but the house was far from sterile or empty. The rooms and hallways sang with the voices of my housemates, and I was grateful for that. Some days, it made me feel a little less untethered, to be surrounded by other people.
Today, the house was full, and I loved it.
Down the hall, Lorne’s three daughters were training with Ryan. I could hear them grunting, punching. None of them wanted to be victims again, and were training to use both their bodies and their powers, and they were making excellent progress. I could hear Lorne tinkering around in his lab, arguing with Sal (Daemon) about their next step in terms of trying to restore my memories. I’d negotiated Sal’s release from StrikeForce, and Portia had given him up with some reservations. He and his family had moved in with me, just as Lorne and his family had. I could hear Sal’s daughter singing along to some cartoon she was watching in the family room.
Jarvis was working upstairs in her workshop. She’d been happy to come to work for me, more than ready to leave the official superhero team thing behind after what her family had been through. Both she and Lorne worked for me now, just as Sal did. I had allied myself with former enemies, people I should have hated, people I never should have trusted. Yet, here they were.
I was big on second chances, apparently.
Luther, my former fence, was talking to Jarvis, Jarvis telling her what kind of equipment they needed to get for the tech she was helping David design for me. Though they didn’t live with me, David, Jenson, Ryan, and Dani all spent as much time as they could with me. I’d kept close ties to StrikeForce. Portia had already called on me once to help them take down a particularly dangerous telekinetic, and it had gone well. I’d done the entire thing invisible. That would work well for the times I helped my old team.
I answered the front door, and Jenson stood there, holding a cardboard box. She wrapped one arm around me in a quick hug, still holding the box in the other, then we walked through the house and up to my bedroom, which had been Damian’s room back when he’d lived here. This was the room I’d been in when he’d confronted me the day I’d broken into his house. This was the room in which my life had taken a turn down the path I was now on. Irony.
I had a laptop open on the dresser, playing the latest Detroit UnPowered stream. So far, Justin, who I guess I should have remembered, but didn’t, had done a week-long series of shows, “Remembering Daystar.” His views were through the roof, and, according to Portia, he’d been interviewed by all of the major news outlets for his work on my story. Of course, like most of StrikeForce, he really believed I was dead, and that was probably for the best. It made thing simpler.
Wonder what’s under the mask, though, one of the voices said. The only good thing was, no other voices answered. I was going to consider that a win, for now.
I glanced at the laptop, then tore my eyes away and looked at Jenson again.
“Is that the last of my stuff?” I asked her, nodding toward the box. She nodded and set it in the center of the bed, then sat down. I sat next to her and pulled the box over to me.
“There wasn’t a ton left. Mostly papers and notes and stuff. I figured you’d want any notes we could find.”
I nodded.
“I didn’t realize you’d been trying to track Eve yourself, before all that,” she said.
“Was I?”
She nodded and pulled out a few sheets of paper. One was a map, the rest were notes. “You sa
w some stuff we didn’t.” She pointed to a cluster of stars, then the notes I’d written. “You wrote here that you wanted to look into this cluster of missing kid cases, because they seemed different somehow. In all three of them, the kids in question took off on their own. They left notes, and they weren’t in our list of super powered kids. So how did you decide to include them?”
I looked over the notes for a while, trying to remember. “I don’t know. Did they have powers?”
“Well, that was the thing. As far as anyone who knows them knows, they don’t. Perfectly normal kids.”
“Unless they were hiding things.”
“Right. So we started looking into other kidnappings or runaways.”
I glanced up at her. “And?”
“We’re still looking. This could be worse than we thought.”
“Lovely. Send over anything you find, okay? And I’ll keep looking, too.”
Jenson nodded. I fished around in the box and pulled out a white envelope with my name on it.
“I was thinking you might want that. That’s the letter that Virus included with his will, when he left you all this. It’s still sealed,” she noted.
“Why didn’t I read it?”
“Well, it came like a day or two before everything went to hell, so you probably just never got a chance.”
I nodded, then pried the envelope open.
Jolene,
If you’re reading this, then I’m toast. I always figured it would end this way. Some asshole probably killed me, right? I pissed somebody off. I don’t doubt it.
I screwed things up for you, and I didn’t mean to. I was so goddamn greedy. You always asked me how much was enough, and I thought it was a stupid question, because my answer was always that there was no such thing as enough. You were a better thief than me. You never got caught. Not until you had the misfortune to partner with me, anyway. I’m sorry about that.
Strikeforce (Book 4): Day's End Page 19